Restarting
by NotWhatSherl
Summary: When Georgia Waters was only six months old, her mother burned alive on the ceiling. Now, 22 years later, she is a hunter who hunts along with her best friends Dean and Sam Winchester in order to find the thing that killed both of their mothers. Potential Sam/OC
1. Dad's on a Hunting Trip

**Don't own Supernatural**

* * *

_**Chapter One: Dad's On a Hunting Trip**_

It was a quiet night for the Waters family on October 23, 1983, in Lawrence, Kansas. The Water's only daughter, Georgia, had just turned six months old. Lillian Waters, Georgia's mother, a thin woman with long black hair and sparkling green eyes, was holding Georgia in the nursery, saying goodnight to her daughter.

"Goodnight sweetie," she said, kissing Georgia's forehead, "I love you," she put Georgia down in her crib, "Can't believe you're getting so big," she whispered to herself as she turned on the nightlight and turned off the light and left the room. She went down the hallway to her room where her husband, Scott Waters, a man with blond hair and blue eyes, was already asleep, snoring.

Lillian chuckled to herself as she climb into bed. While the couple slept on, the nursery lights were flickering. Not long after that, the baby monitor was making noises that definitely did not belong to a baby. Lillian was woken by the noises, though Scott slept on, _m__aternal instincts, _she thought to herself. She got up to check on the baby and went to the nursery when she saw a man, who was definitely not Scott, standing next to Georgia.

Back in the bedroom, Lillian's screams woke up Scott. He ran to the nursery, yelling out, "Lillian!", but when he got to the nursery, he didn't see anyone. He checked to make sure Georgia was okay but saw a thick, red liquid drip down onto the sheets. Scott looked up and saw his wife with a look of terror on her face, pinned to the ceiling, her stomach slashed, and struggling to breathe.

"Lillian!" Scott exclaimed, _No no no no, _he kept thinking, praying to God that this was just some horrible nightmare, but this nightmare became all too real when Lillian burst into flames. Knowing there was no chance of saving Lillian, Scott took a crying Georgia from her crib and ran outside, not caring about the firefighters who had arrived and looked up at the house, desperate to know what killed his wife.

* * *

**22 YEARS LATER**

A now 22-year-old George Waters was sitting in the passenger's seat of Dean Winchester's '67 Chevrolet Impala. Dean Winchester was one of the more permanent friends she's had for her life, due to the whole 'hunting' thing that her dad had gotten into due to her mother's death. Even though that's how Dean's family got into hunting, that wasn't how they met. They're families had known each other since before they were born, so it was inevitable that when both their dads had gotten into hunting, their dads wouldn't go on hunts together because they were both hunting for the same thing. They were such good friends that, when Scott died on a hunting trip, John Winchester was made George's legal, well, as legal as you can get when you're a hunter, guardian.

George had grown to look just like her mother. She had her mother's long black hair and green eyes that didn't sparkle as much as her mother's seemed to in the pictures. They seemed to be quite dull as a matter-of-fact. You could see her standing next to her father, but you wouldn't be able to tell they were related without prior knowledge.

Right now they were trying to get Dean's younger but still somehow-much-taller-than-him, brother, Sam, to help them find John. He had gone on a hunting trip and hadn't been home for a long time.

"You do realize that he's going to say no," George reminded Dean.

"What makes you say that Georgey?" Dean asked with his annoying smirk.

Growling at the nickname, George started, "Well, you're plan is to break into his apartment, ask him to help you do a job he _hates _and help him find a man who he left on _pretty bad terms with, _so, yeah, he's probably going to say no."

"Ah, don't be a pessimist George."

"I'm not a pessimist," George pouted, crossing her arms, "I'm a realist," Dean laughed, "Shut up!" George smacked him.

"Hey, no smacking the driver," Dean laughed.

"I swear Dean, if a demon doesn't kill you," George threatened, "I will."

* * *

"You're going first," George demanded as they finally reached Sam's apartment and were standing outside the window.

"Give me a reason then."

"Well, Sam's hunting instincts are probably going to make him attack a stranger, in the dark, and, I really don't feel like getting punched in the face by Sam," George explained.

"What makes you think I do?" Dean questioned.

"Nothing, he's your brother," George pushed Dean towards the window.

Dean grumbled and opened the window, "You owe me some pie," Dean climbed in through the window and passed the strings of beads at the far end of the hall. Dean entered a room Sam was in and Sam lunged forward and grabbed Dean at the shoulder. Noticing the ruckus, George climbed in through the window and saw Sam and Dean fighting. Instead of breaking the fight up, like a good almost-sister should, she just decided to watch Dean grab Sam's arm and swing him around and shoe him back. Sam kicked and was blocked by Dean then pushed into another room. Not wanting to miss any of the excitement, George followed the two brothers into the room as Dean elbowed Sam in the face and Sam kicked at his head. Dean ducked and swung and Sam blocked. Dean knocked Sam down and pinned him to the floor, "Whoa, easy, tiger."

Sam breathed hard, "Dean?" Dean laughed his annoying laugh that made you want to punch him in the face, "You scared the crap out of me!"

"That's 'cause you're out of practice," Sam grabbed Dean's hand and yanked, slamming his heel into Dean;s back and sent Dean to the floor, "Or not," Sam tapped Dean twice where Sam held him, "Get off of me."

Sam rolled to his feet and pulled Dean up, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I was looking for a beer," Dean said, "It's also not just me," George stepped out from her place in the shadows.

"Hey Sammy," she said opening her arms for a hug, "S'been a while," Sam hugged her.

"Alright, alright, enough chick flick moments," Dean said, breaking up the hug. Dean put his hands on Sam's shoulders, shook once and let go.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Sam asked.

"Okay. All right. We gotta talk," Dean said.

"Uh, the phone?"

"If either of us called, would you have picked up?"

A blonde girl who was wearing short shorts and a cropped Smurfs shirt, who George supposed to be Sam's girlfriend,_ How the hell does someone like Sammy get someone_ that _hot? And has an amazing appreciation for classic cartoons?,_turned the light on, "Sam?"

The trio snapped their heads in unison, "Jess. Hey. Dean, George, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

"Wait, your brother Dean and your friend George?"_  
_

Jess smiled and Sam nodded. Dean grinned and moved closer, "Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league." _Are you kidding me? Even _I _have the decency to not flirt with someone who's taken. Well, taken with someone I care about._

"Just let me put something on," Jess said.

Jess was about to go but Dean's flirting voice stopped her, "No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously," Dean went back over to Sam and Sam watched him, his expression stony, "Anyway, we gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you."

"No," Sam went over to Jess and put an arm around her, "No, whatever either of you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

"Okay," Dean and George looked at them both, "Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean ducked his head and looked back up, "Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam's expression didn't change, Jess glanced at him, "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

* * *

The trio headed downstairs, "I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you."

"You're not hearing us, Sammy. Dad's missing. I-

"We"

Dean rolled his eyes, "need you to help me find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine."

The three of them stopped, Dean and George turning around, "He's never been gone for this long. Now come on, lets get to the car," George ordered.

"No." Sam replied. _Of course, stubborn ol' Sammy._

"Why not?" Dean questioned.

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad."

Dean and George started downstairs again, "It could have been a hell of a lot worse."

"Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45."

Dean stopped at the door, "Well, what was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark."

"Don't be afraid of the dark? Sammy, that is some of the most bullshit advice you could give anyone. You know by now whats out there!" George all-but-yelled.

"Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after our and George's moms were killed, and both of our dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her," Dean glanced outside, "But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we _can_ find."

"A lot of people are still living and breathing because of us," George reminded him.

"You think Mom would have wanted this for us? George, do you think _your _mom would have wanted this for you?"

Dean rolled his eyes and slammed the door open.

* * *

"The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, guys, we were raised like warriors."

They crossed the parking lot to the Impala, "So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?"

"No. Not normal. Safe."

"And that's why you ran away," Dean looked away.

"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it," Sam was silent, "We can't do this alone."

"Yes you can."

Dean looked down, "Yeah, well, we don't want to."

Sam sighed and looked down, "What was he hunting?"

Dean opened the trunk of the Impala, then the spare-tire compartment. He propped the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter, "All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"

"I dunno," George shrugged.

"So when Dad left, why didn't either of you go with him?"

"We were working our own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans."

"Kicked that evil son of a bitch's ass," George said with a confident grin.

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"

Dean looked over at Sam, "I'm twenty-six, dude. Besides, I wasn't alone, Georgey was with me."

"If you call me that name again, I will slit your throat," George threatened.

Dean pulled some papers out of a folder, "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy," Dean handed one of the papers to Sam, "They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA"

"No signs of, well, anything in the car when they looked at it," George looked over the Victim's MISSING posters.

Sam glanced up, "So maybe he was kidnapped."

"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April," Dean tossed down another article, " Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years," Dean tossed down articles on each of the dates he mentioned, " Dean puts the articles in a folder.

"All men," George told Sam, "all the same five-mile stretch of road."

Dean took a bag out of the arsenal, "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough," Dean grabbed a tape recorder, "Then I get this voicemail yesterday," Dean pressed play.

Dean...George...," a staticky version of John's voice spoke, "something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, both of you. We're all in danger," Dean pressed stop.

"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam asked.

"Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shook his head, "All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got," Dean pressed play again.

A woman's voice spoke, "I can never go home..." Dean pressed stop.

"Never go home," Sam repeated.

DEAN drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it.

Dean dropped the recorder and put down the shotgun he was holding and shut the trunk, leaning on it, "You know, in almost two years we've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing,"

Sam looked away and sighed, then looked back, "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him," Dean and George shared a look, then nodded, "But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here," Sam turned to go back to the apartment but turned back when George spoke.

"Whatcha got going on on Monday?" George asked.

"I have this...I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it," Dean said.

"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate,"

"Law school?" Dean smirked.

"Man, if I had a drink right now, I'd be doing a spit-take," George teased.

"So we got a deal or not?"

Dean didn't reply.

* * *

**First chapter finally done! So, what did you think? Constructive Criticism is always welcome!**


	2. Constance Welch

**Here's chapter two of Restarting! Don't own Supernatural**

* * *

_**Chapter Two: Constance Welch**_

After Dean agreed, Sam started packing for the hunting trip. He pulled out a large hook-shaped knife and slided it inside.

Jess entered the room, "Wait, you're taking off?" Sam looked up, "Is this about your dad? Is he all right?"

"Yeah. You know, just a little family drama," Sam lied smoothly, going over to the dresser and turning on the lamp"

"Your brother said he was on some kind of hunting trip," Jess sat down of the bed.

Sam rummaged in one of the drawers and came out with a couple shirts, which went into the duffel, "Oh, yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin, he's probably got Jim, Jack, and José along with him. I'm just going to go bring him back."

"What about the interview?" Jess questioned.

"I'll make the interview. This is only for a couple days," Sam assured his girlfriend.

Sam went around the bed and Jess followed, "Sam, I mean, please," Sam stopped and turned, "Just stop for a second. You sure you're okay?"

Sam laughed, "I'm fine."

"It's just...you won't even talk about your family. And now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend a weekend with them? And with Monday coming up, which is kind of a huge deal."

"Hey. Everything's going to be okay. I will be back in time, I promise," Sam kissed her on the cheek and left.

"At least tell me where you're going," Jess pleaded.

* * *

Before the trio went on the hunt, Dean stopped the Impala at a gas station in order to refuel the Impala and get some snacks. George was wearing a green button-up with jeans while Sam was wearing his button-and jacket. Sam and George were waiting in the car while listening to 'Ramblin' Man' by the Allman brothers. After what seemed like an eternity (George _really _hated waiting) Dean came out of the convenience mart carrying junk food. George was lying down in the back seats while Sam was in the shotgun seat with the door open rifling through a box of tapes.

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed," Sam leaned out and looked at him, "You want breakfast?"

"No, thanks."

"Any for you Georgie?"

"Gimme the poptart," George replied without looking up. Dean chuckled and handed a box of cinnamon poptarts to her.

"You better be sharing that," Dean told her.

"No promises," came the muffled sound from the back as George had already taken a gigantic bite from the poptart.

"So how'd you pay for that stuff? You two and Dad still running credit card scams?"

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean put the nozzle back of the pump.

"It's not our fault," George swallowed her food, "All we do is apply."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam swung his legs back into the car and closed the door.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Dean went into the driver seat and put his soda and chips down.

"And his kids Hector and Maria. Scored three cards out of the deal," George finished.

Dean closed the door, "That sounds about right. I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection," Sam said.

"Why?" George had gotten up in the back was sitting behind Sam now.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two," Sam held up a tape for every band he named, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean took the Metallica tape from Sam, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"Well, house rules, Sammy," Dean popped the tape in the player, "Driver picks the music-"

"Shotgun shuts his cakehole," George finished from the back.

Dean dropped the Metallica box back in the box of tapes and started the engine.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old. It's Sam, okay?"

"Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud," Dean drove off.

* * *

"Thank you," Sam hung up from the phone call from the morgue, "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or that's something, I guess."

Dean glanced over at Sam then looked back at the road. Dean spotted a two police cars and several officers at the bridge ahead of them, "Check it out," Sam leaned forward for a closer look while George got up from her seat and leaned in between the two brothers. Dean pulled over and the trio took a long look before Dean turned off the engine. Dean opened the glove compartment and pulled out a box full of ID cards with his, John's and Georges face on them. He picked on out and grinned at Sam, "Let's go."

On the bridge Deputy Jaffe leaned over the railing and yelled down to two men who were poking around the river, "You guys find anything?"

"No! Nothing!" one of the men shouted.

The deputy turned back to the car in the middle of the bridge. Deputy Hein was at the driver's side looking around inside the car, "No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean."

The trio walked into the crime scene, "So, this kid Troy. He's dating your daughter, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Hein replied.

"How's Amy doing?" Jaffe asked.

"She's putting up missing posters downtown."

"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean cut in.

Jaffe looked up at Dean and straightened up to talk to him, "And who are you?"

Dean and George flashed their badges.

"You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you?"

Dean laughed, "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you," Dean and George went over to the car.

"You did have another one just like this, right?" George asked.

"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."

"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam asked.

Jaffe nodded, "Town like this, everybody knows everybody."

Dean circled the car, "Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?"

"No. Not so far as we can tell."

"So what's the theory?" Sam and George went over to Dean.

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys."

"Yeah good job" George said sarcastically.

Sam stomped on Dean's foot, "Thank you for your time," Sam started to walk away and Dean and George followed, "Gentlemen."

Dean smacked Sam on the head, "Ow! What was that for?"

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?"

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?" Dean looked at Sam and moved in front of him.

"Girls girls, you're both pretty," George said walking next to Dean.

"Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves," Sam cleared his throat and looked over Dean's shoulder. Dean and George turned to see Sheriff Pierce and two FBI agents.

"Can I help you three?"

"No, sir, we were just leaving."

Dean nodded at the FBI agents as they walked past, "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully."

* * *

A young woman was tacking up poster with the man who went missing, Troy's, face. The poster had the caption:'MISSING TROY SQUIRE'. The trio approached her, "I'll bet you that's her."

"Yeah."

The three of them walked up to the young woman, "You must be Amy."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, Troy told us about you. I'm his aunt and they're his uncles. I'm George, this is Dean, and that's Sammy."

"He never mentioned you to me," Amy walked away while Dean, Sam, and George followed.

"Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around," Sam told her.

Another woman named Rachel went up to Amy and put a hand on her arm, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Is it okay if we ask you a couple of questions?" George asked.

* * *

The four of them are sitting in a booth, Dean and Sam sat across Amy and Rachel while George had pulled up a chair.

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did."

"Did he say anything unusual?" George asked.

Amy shook her head, "No. Nothing I can remember."

"I like your necklace," Sam complimented.

AMY holds the pendant she's wearing, a pentagram in a circle, and looks down at it.

Amy held the pentagram-shaped pendant she was wearing and looked down at it, "Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—" she laughed, "—with all that devil stuff."

Sam laughed a little then looked down, then looked up, Dean looked over, "Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing."

"Know-it-all," George muttered.

"Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries," Dean look his arm off the back of Sam's seat and leaned forward, "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything..." the two girls looked at each other, "What is it?"

"Well, it's just..." Rachel began, "I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."

"What do they talk about?" The three of them said in unison.

"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago," _Murder = violent death. Vengeful Spirt? Most likely_ Dean looked at Sam who watched Rachel attentively, "Well, supposedly she's still out there," Sam nodded, "She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

The two hunters and supposedly 'ex'-hunter shared glances.

* * *

The trio had went to the library to search for the legend to see if it was true and, if so, find out who this dead chick was and stop it. They were searching for through the archives of the Jericho Herald. Dean at first tried 'Female Murder Hitchhiking' with zero results. Then George sighed and pushed Dean out of the way and tried 'Female Murder Centennial Highway'. Dean pushed her away from the computer.

"Let me try," Sam said.

Dean smacked Sam's hand, "I got it," Sam shoved Dean's chair out of the way and took over, "Dude!" Dean hit Sam in the shoulder, "You're such a control freak."

"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?"

"Yeah."

"Yup," George agreed.

"Well, maybe it's not murder," Sam replaced 'Murder with 'Suicide' and found an article entitled 'Suicide on Centennial'. Dean glanced at Sam. Sam opened the article dated April 25, 1985.

_A local woman's drowning death was ruled a suicide, the county Sheriff's Department said earlier today. Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge, at mile 33 of Centennial Highway, and subsequently drowned last J. Pierce told reporters that, hours before her death, Ms. Welch logged a call with 911 emergency services. In a panicked tone, Ms. Welch described how she found her two young children, 5 and 6, in the bathtub, after leaving them alone for several [minutes]. What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for my wife. Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it," said husband Joseph Welch. "Now I ask that you all please respect my privacy during this trying time."At the time of the children's death and Ms. Welch's subsequent suicide, Mr. Welch was at the Frontier auto salvage yard, where he works the graveyard shift as associate manager."Connie might have been quiet, but she was the sweetest, most caring girl I ever knew," said Deanna Kripke, a neighbor. "She just doted on those children."_

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river."

"Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked.

"Yeah.

"Well, then what?" George asked.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Hm."

"'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch," Sam read.

"The bridge look familiar to you?"

* * *

The three of them walked along the Sylvania Bridge, then stopped to lean over the railing and looked down at the river. "So this is where Constance took the swan dive," Dean joked.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam looked over at Dean.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him," Dean continued walking and Sam and George followed.

"Okay, so now what?"

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while."

"Or not long at all, depending on if your dad wants us to find him."

"I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—"

Dean and George turned around, "Monday. Right. The interview."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer?" Dean asked.

"Marry your girl?" George followed.

Maybe. Why not?

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

Sam stepped closer, "No, and she's not ever going to know."

"Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are," Dean and George turned around and kept walking. Sam followed.

"And who's that?"

"You're one of us."

Sam hurried to get in front of Dean and George, "No. I'm not like you two. This is not going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility to—"

"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed both of our moms-"

"Woah, Sammy, leave me out of this."

Sam ignored her, "They're gone. And they aren't coming back."

Dean grabbed Sam by the collar and shoved him up against the railing of the bridge. There was a long pause.

"Dean," George warned.

"Don't talk about her like that," Dean released Sam and walked away. George saw what Dean was looking at. It was the same woman from the news article, Constance Welch, standing on the edge of the bridge.

"Sam."

Sam and George went over to stand next to Dean. Constance looked over at them, then stepped forward off the edge. Sam, Dean, and George ran to the railing and looked over.

"Where'd she go?"

George shook her head, "I have no idea."

Behind them, the revving of an engine was heard. The three of them turned around and saw the Impala was running, headlights on.

"What the—"

"Who's driving your car?" Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket and jingled them. Sam glanced at them. The car jerked into motion, heading straight for them. They turned and ran. "Dean? George? Go! Go!"

The car moved way faster than they could've ran. When it got too close, the trio dived over the railing. The car finally came to a halt.


	3. Constance Goes Home

**So here is chapter three AKA The Final Chapter of Pilot. I truly miss when everything was all happy and their only goal was TO FIND THEIR DAD. *Sigh* Please R+R**

* * *

**_Chapter Three: Constance Goes Home_**

After they had jumped, Sam and George had managed to get themselves on the edge of the bridge and were hanging on. He pulled himself up onto the bridge and held out his hand for George to grab onto. George took his hand and pulled herself up looks around.

"Dean? Dean!"

Dean was not as lucky. A filthy and annoyed hunter crawled out of the water and onto the mud, panting, "What?"

"Hey! Are you all right?"

Dean held up one hand in an A-OK sign, "I'm super."

Sam laughed, relieved, and scooted away from the edge.

After Dean got back up on the bridgeDean's first priority was, of course, to make sure his 'baby' was ok. He opened the hood of his car to make sure everything was okay and Constance did mess anything up. When he was finally done, he closed the hood of his car and leaned on it, "Your car all right?"

"Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a _bitch_!"

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job go from here, genius?" Sam settled on the hood next to dean while George leaned onto the passenger seat window. Dean threw up his arms in frustration, then flicked mud off his hands then looks at Dean, "You smell like a toilet."

Dean looked down.

* * *

Sam, Dean, and George decided that, since they would be staying here for a while, they would need to check into a motel. Since they had no where to go to wash up, Dean was still filthy. Dean checked in under the name of Hector Aframian, "One room, please."

The clerk picked up the card and looked at it, "You guys having a reunion or something?"

"What do you mean?"

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month."

The three looked at each other.

* * *

When the three got the room number, Sam picked the lock. Sam hid the picks and stood up, having to kneel down to pick the locks because _he's so friggin tall. _That has always annoyed George, the fact that Sam is so tall. She would often retaliate by laughing at the fact that she was older than him by nine days so she was the one that got to make decisions when Dean wasn't around. While Sam was picking the lock, George and Dean were playing lookout until Sam reached out of the room to grab his shoulder and yanked him inside, doing the same with George. Sam closed the door behind them. They looked around-every vertical surface had papers pinned to it: maps, newspaper clippings, pictures, notes. There were books on the desk and assorted junk on the floor and bed, including something with a hazardous-materials symbol.

"Whoa."

Dean turned on a light by the bed and picked up a half-eaten hamburger sitting there. Sam stepped over a line of salt on the floor. Dean sniffed the burger and recoils, "I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least."

Sam finger the salt on the floor and looked up, "Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in," Dean looked at the papers covering one wall. George examined the papers on the wall as well. She grew frustrated and scrunched her face together. _Not a single connection._

"What have you got here?"

"Centennial Highway victims," George and Dean chorused.

Sam nodded, "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs-" Sam crossed the room, "-ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

Sam looked at the papers taped to the other walls. There were papers about the Bell Witch, two people being burned alive, a skeletal person blowing a horn at several scared people with the note "MORTIS DANSE", a column about "Devils + Demons", another about "Sirens, Witches, the possessed", a wooden pentacle, and a note that says "Woman in White" above a printout of the _Jericho Herald _article on Constance's suicide.

Sam turned on another lamp, "Dad figured it out."

Dean turned to look, "What do you mean?"

"He found the Same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white."

Dean looked at the photos of the victims, "You sly dogs," while George muttered, "Dickheads."

Dean and George turned to Sam, "All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness," Sam pointed out.

"Well, Dad would want to make sure," Dean crossed over to Sam, George following, "He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

"No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband," Sam tapped the picture of Joseph Welch, "If he's still alive," Sam goes to looked at something else.

Dean looks at the picture below the Herald article, of a woman in a white dress, "All right. Why don't you, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna get cleaned up."

Dean started to walk away as George sat down.

Sam turned, "Hey,"

Dean stopped and turned back as George looked up, "What I said earlier, about both of Moms and our Dad, I'm sorry."

Dean held up a hand, "No chick-flick moments."

"The golden rule," George laughed.

Sam laughed and nodded, "All right. Jerk."

"Bitch." Ah, the signature insults. This meant they were _really _getting along. George had missed this, ever since Sam had left for Stanford.

Sam laughed again. Dean left to go to the bathroom, waiting for him to be done. Sam noticed something, his smile disappearing, and crossed over for a closer look. A rosary hung in front of a large mirror, and stuck into the mirror frame is a photo of John sitting on the hood of the Impala, next to a Dean in a baseball cap with Sam, on John's lap. Sam takes the photo off the mirror and holds it, smiling sadly.

* * *

Sam paced, holding his phone, and sat down on the bed. A voicemail message wass playing.

"Hey, it's me, it's about ten-twenty Saturday night-" Jess's voice spoke from the phone.

Dean came out of the bathroom and grabbed his jacket. He shrugs it on one shoulder as he crossed the room, "Hey, man. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?"

"No."

"Aframian's buying."

Sam shook his head, "Mm-mm."

"Want anything George?"

"Yes, but I'm coming," George said, getting up and grabbing her sweatshirt.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you messing up my order just because I forgot to get you pie ONE TIME."

* * *

Dean and George left the motel room. He got the jacket the rest of the way on as they crossed the lot. Dean looked over and saw a police car, and elbowed George to get her to notice it. The motel clerk was talking to Deputy Jaffe and Deputy Hein. The clerk pointed at Dean, then George, who turned away and Dean pulled out his cell phone

Meanwhile, Sam was sitting on the bed, still listening to the message, "So come home soon, okay? I love you," Jess's voice said.

The phone beeped. Sam looked at it and pressed a button, then put it back to his ear, "What?"

Back outside, the deputies were approaching Dean and George.

"Dude, five-oh, take off."

In the motel room, Sam stood up, "What about you?"

Outside, Dean responded, "Uh, they kinda spotted us. Go find Dad," Dean hung up the phone as the deputies approached. George and Dean turned and grinned at them, "Problem, officers?"

"Where's your partner?" Jaffe asked.

"Partner? What, you mean her?" Dean asked, pointing at George.

Jaffe glanced over his shoulder and jerked his thumb towards the motel room. Hein headed over there. Dean fidgeted.

In the motel room, Sam noticed Hein approaching and darted away from the window.

Outside Jaffe was interrogating the two hunters, "So. Fake US Marshals. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?"

"My boobs," Dean replied at the same time George said, "My Dick."

They both grinned.

Hein slammed Dean over the hood of the cop car, then handcuffed George to it.

"You have the right to remain silent-"

* * *

The hunters were taken to the police department. They were brought into an interrogation room. After a little bit of waiting (Which, if you asked George, was an eternity and a half) Sheriff Pierce entered the room, carrying a box. He set the box on the table where Dean and George were sitting and went around the table to face the duo across it.

"So either of you want to give us your real name?"

"We told you, it's Nugent. Ted and Sally Nugent."

"I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here."

"We talkin', like, misdemeanor kind of trouble," Dean asked.

"Or squeal like a pig trouble?" George finished.

"You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall," Dean looked away, "Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. You two are officially suspects."

"That makes sense. Because when the first one went missing in '82 I was three."

"And I wasn't even alive," George sneered.

"I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me. Dean. Georgia," George felt anger bubble at the use of her full name. Only one person was allowed to call her that. The sheriff tossed a brown leather covered journal on the table. _John's Journel. Wow, I just did alliteration without realizing it. I'm awesome. "_This his?" Dean stared at it. The sheriff sat on the edge of the table, flipping through the journal

Dean stares at it. The sheriff sat on the edge of the table. He flipped through the journal. George knew he wouldn't get anything out of it, it was filled with newspaper clippings, notes, and pictures, "I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out-I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy," Dean and George leaned forward for a closer look, "But I found this, too," He opened the journal to a page that read 'Dean and George 35-111' with nothing else of the page, "Now. You're stayin' right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means," Dean stared down at the page, then looked up.

* * *

"I don't know how many times I gotta tell you. It's my high school locker combo," Sheriff Pierce was still interrogating the two over the 'Dean and George 35-111' PAGE.

"I do't think two people of different ages and genders have ever shared a locker. We gonna do this all night long?"

A deputy leaned into the room, "We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road."

"Either of you have to go to the bathroom?"

"No," they both replied.

"Good," The sheriff handcuffed Dean, then George to the table then left. Dean saw a paper clip poking out of the journal, pulled it out and looked at it. He picked the lock on the cuffs, then gave the clip to George so she could pick her lock. Dean and George watched through the window in the door, then both ducked out of sight as the deputy approached the door, and waited. Once the coast was clear, they climbed down the fire escape, carrying John's Journal. _Sounds like a brand name._

* * *

George and Dean managed to find a phone booth. The idiot police just _had_ to take their phones. Dean picked up the phone and called Sam while George stood outside, listening in and playing lookout, "Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal."

Sam was driving the Impala, "You're welcome," Sam grinned.

"Listen, we gotta talk."

"Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop."

"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?"

"That's never gonna happen," George mumbled loud enough for Dean to hear.

"I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet."

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho," Dean told him.

"What? How do you know?"

"I've got his journal," Dean replied.

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing," Now _that _was true. George doubted he even went to the _bathroom _without that damn journal. Of course, if anyone were to find that, most likely John would've been: A: Locked up in an asylum or B: Dead.

"Yeah, well, he did this time."

"What's it say?" Sam asked.

"Ah, the Same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates. Where to?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?" Sam looked up and slammed the brake, dropping the phone. Constance had appeared on the road in front of him. The car passed right through as Sam brought it to a halt.

"Sam? Sam!" Dean yelled into the phone. George looked at him.

"Whats wrong?"

Back inside the car, Sam breathed hard. Constance was sitting in the back seat, "Take me home."

* * *

"Take me home!" Constance demanded.

"No."

Constance glared and the doors locked themselves. Sam struggled to reopen them. The gas pedal pressed down and the car begans to drive itself. Sam tried to steer, but Constance was controlling the steering wheel too. Sam continued to try to get the door open. In the back seat, Constance flickered.

* * *

The car pulled up in front of Constance's house and stopped. The engine shut off and so did the lights, "Don't do this," Sam pleaded.

Constance flicked, voice filled with sadness, "I can never go home."

"You're scared to go home," Sam realized.

Sam looked back and Constance wasn't there. He glanced around and back and saw her in the shotgun seat. She climbed into his lap, shoving him back against the seat hard enough to recline the seat. Sam struggled, "Hold me. I'm so cold."

"You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!" Sam pointed out.

"You will be. Just hold me."

Constance kissed Sam as he continued to struggle, reaching for the keys. She pulled back and disappeared, a flash of something horrible behind her face as she vanisheed. Sam looked around for a moment, then yelled in pain and yanked his hoodie open. There were five new holes burned through the fabric, matching to Constance's fingers: she flickered in front of him, her hand reaching into his chest. Two gunshots went off, shattering the window and startling Constance. Dean and George approached, still firing at her. She glared at him and vanished, then reappeared, and Dean and George kept firing until she disappeared again. Sam managed to sit up and start the car.

"I'm taking you home," Sam drove forward. Dean and George stared after the car. Sam smashed through the side of the house. The two hunters hurried through the wreckage to the passenger side of the car.

"Sam! Sam! You okay?"

"I think..."

"Can you move?" George asked, her face filled with worry.

"Yeah. Help me?" Dean leaned through the window to give Sam a hand.

Constance picked up a large framed photograph with Constance and her children.

Dean helped Sam out of the car, "There you go."

Dean closed the car door. They looked around and see Constance; she looked up. She glared at them and threw the picture down. A bureau scooted towards the trio, pinning them against the car. The lights flickered; Constance looked around, scared. Water begans to pour down the staircase. She went over. At the top are the boy and the girl from the photograph, her children They held hands and speak in chorus, "You've come home to us, Mommy."

Constance looked at them, distraught. Suddenly they were behind her; they embraced her tightly and she screamed, her image flickering. In a surge of energy, still screaming, Constance and the two children melted into a puddle in the floor. Sam, Dean, and George shoved the bureau over and went to look at the spot where Constance and her children vanished.

"So this is where she drowned her kids," Dean said.

Sam nodded, "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them."

"You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy."

"Not so rusty after all," George complimented.

Dean slapped Sam on the chest where he'd been injured and walked away. Sam laughed through the pain, "Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freaks?"

"Hey. Saved your ass," Dean looked over to look at the car, "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?" Dean twisted around, "I'll kill you," Sam laughed.

"We mustn't split up the beautiful romance that is 'Dean Winchester, and the Impala'. Coming soon to a theater near you," George joked, causing Sam to laugh harder and even Dean cracked a smile.

* * *

When they drove off in the car Dean was driving, Sam in shotgun, and George lying down in the back. Sam had the journal open to 'Dean and George 35-111' and a map open on his lap and was finding coordinates with a ruler, a flashlight tucked between chin and shoulder, "Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

Dean nodded, "Sounds charming. How far?"

"About six hundred miles."

"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning."

"Maybe even before if we're lucky, but, then again, when are we ever lucky," George said.

Sam looked at him, hesitating, "Dean, I, um..."

Dean glanced at the road and back, "You're not going."

"The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there." George frowned. She had hoped that Sam would've realized how much he missed hunting and was eager to join back in it, but, she shouldn't have gotten her hopes high.

Dean nodded, disappointed, and returned his attention to the road, "Yeah. Yeah, whatever," Dean glanced at Sam, "I'll take you home."

Sam turned the flashlight off.

* * *

They pulled up in front of the apartment, Dean still frowning. Sam got out and leaned over to look through the window, "Call me if you find him?"

Dean nodded.

"And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right," George climbed into shotgun seat with a frown on her face.

Sam patted the car door twice and turns away. Dean leaned toward the passenger door, one arm going over the back of the seat while George leaned out the window, "Sam?" Sam turned back, "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

The duo drove off. Sam watches him go and sighs.

Sam let himself in. Everything was dark and quiet, "Jess?" Sam closed the door, "You home?" Sam noticed a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table, with a note that read 'Missed you! Love you!', next to a National Geographic. Sam picked one up and ate it as he sneaked into the bedroom, smiling. The shower was audibly running. Sam sat on the bed, shut his eyes, and flopped onto his back.

Blood dripped onto Sam's forehead, one drop, then another; he flinched and opens his eyes. He gasped in horror: Jess was pinned to the ceiling, staring down at him and bleeding from the belly, "No!" Sam shouted. Jess bursted into flame; the fire spread across the ceiling.

Dean kicked the front door open with George behind him, "Sam!"

Sam raised one arm to shield his face, "Jess!"

Dean and George came running into the bedroom, both shouting, 'Sam!' they both looked up and saw Jess.

"No! No!" Sam shouted. Dean grabbed Sam off the bed and they both bodily shoved him out the door, Sam struggling all the way, "Jess! Jess! No!"

Flames engulfed the apartment._  
_

* * *

Once the three of them got out of the building safely, there were already fire trucks parked outside the building, firemen and police keeping back gawkers. Dean and George looked on, then turned and walked back to the Impala. Sam was standing behind the open trunk, loading a shotgun. Dean looked at the trunk, then at Sam, whose face was set in a mask of desperate anger. Sam looked up, then sighed, nodded, and tossed the shotgun into the trunk, "We got work to do," Sam shut the trunk.


	4. Seeing Things

**Here we got the first chapter of 'Wendigo'. It also introduces the psychicness that George starts to develop.**

* * *

_**Chapter 4: Seeing Things**_

**Three Weeks Ago**

_George was sleeping, like any normal person should. She was having her normal dream of hot dudes in over-sexualized cat costumes, then it was interrupted. A shooting pain went to her head as a boy with shaggy black hair was walking into a room. The strange thing was, she didn't know this boy, or even what or where the room was._

_"Janet?" He asked, turning on the light. _Who the hell is Janet? _Her intellectual thought process was interrupted by a man standing in the room. He held up a hand, slamming the boy against the wall, "What the hell?"_

_"Close," the man said. The boy screamed as he slid up the wall finally stopping at the ceiling, the man shushed him and the boy's stomach starting bleeding, causing him to stop. The man disappeared. _That's the thing... _George thought, feeling fury, _that killed my mom.

_A young blonde woman, wearing a ring walked in, "Greg?" she paused at the door frame, "You home?" She walked in. She screamed as she saw her fiancé pinned to the wall. George gasped awake just as the ceiling above Tom burst into flames. She saw Dean sleeping across on the other bed. The clock read 3:00._

_"What the hell?" _

**Now**

_Sam visited Jessica's grave wearing a suit and tie and carried a bouquet of various flowers excluding roses. The cemetery where Jess had been buried was completely deserted. Sam sighed and stopped next to Jessica's gravestone that read: 'Jessica Lee Moore, Beloved Daughter, January 24th 1984 - November 2nd 2005'. There was a small picture of a grinning Jess set into the stone above her name, a black-and-white picture of her was leaning against the stone between a white teddy bear and a wooden box with a crucifix that was leaning on the picture, a small American flag next to the box, and three candles that stood on the gravestone; one was of the Virgin de Guadalupe. Sam looked between the gravestone and the flowers, "I, uh..." Sam laughed, "You always said Roses were, were lame, so I brought you, uh..." Sam looked at the picture set into the gravestone, then looked away, choking back tears. He stepped closer to the gravestone, "Jess...oh God..." Sam kneeled to set down the flowers, "I should have protected you. I should have told you the truth," Sam leaned the flowers in front of the crucifix. An arm covered in dirt shot out of the ground and grabbed Sam by the wrist._

Sam jerked awake. He was riding shotgun next to Dean, with George in the back. Foreigner's "Hot-Blooded" was playing. Sam blinked and rubs his eyes. Dean looked over, concerned, "You okay?"

Sam glanced over and away, "Yeah, I'm fine." Pretending your fine when your not seems to be a Winchester trait. Sam had been having nightmares ever since Jess died. Since he's a Winchester, he pretends that it's all OK. This annoyed George to no end. Of course, she wasn't a good example of someone who talks about her feelings. It's okay when she does it, but when anyone else does it, it's bad.

Dean nodded, "Another nightmare?" Sam cleared his throat, "You wanna drive for a while?"

Sam laughed, "Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that."

"Just thought you might want to. Never mind."

"Look, man, you're worried about me. I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay." _Ha! _George knew that watching your girlfriend die the same way your mom did 22 years ago did not seem like it would warrant an 'OK'. The longest George had ever had a girlfriend/boyfriend was six months before they decided to end it and she would definitely not be okay if she died that way.

"Mm-hm."

Sam grabbed a map, "All right, where are we?"

"We are just outside of Grand Junction," Dean informed him.

"You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon."

"Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica-"

"We gotta find Dad first," Sam finished.

"Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence."

"If anyone knows what to do," George said, "Your dad will."

"It's weird, man. These coordinates he left us. This Blackwater Ridge..." he trailed off.

"What about it?"

"There's nothing there. It's just woods," Sam put down the map, "Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

"Well if it was straightforward," George sighed, "It wouldn't be your dad."

* * *

About an hour later, they had driven to a small hiking information center. Blackwater Ridge seemed to be a wildlife preserve where people could camp and do other outdoorsy things.

"So Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote," Sam said, looking at a 3D map of the national forest. Dean and George were more impressed with the decorations.

"It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place."

"Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear," Dean said. They were looking at a framed photo of a man standing behind a much larger bear.

George laughed, "Would hate to have that show up in my tent."

Sam looked over and stood next to Dean "And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area. It's no nature hike, that's for sure."

A forest ranger walked up behind them when he speaks, "You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?" The three whipped around, startled

"Oh, no, sir, we're uh, we're-" George stuttered.

"environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper." Sam lied.

Sam laughed a little. Dean grinned and raises a fist, "Recycle, man."

"Bull."

Sam's eyes flicked to Dean, then to George, neither of them moving.

"You're friends with that Haley girl, right?"

"Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger-" Dean checked the ranger's nametag, "Wilkinson."

"Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?" Dean shook his head, "You tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine."

"We will. Well that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?"

"That is putting it mildly," Wilkinson told them.

"Actually you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date," Wilkinson eyed Dean. Dean raised his eyebrows.

* * *

The three of them left the ranger station. Dean was laughing as he held the backcountry permit Wilkinson gave him.

"What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?"

Dean stopped on one side of the Impala and Sam and George stopped on the other side, "I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?"

"That's a good point," George pointed at Dean.

There was a moment of silence, "What?"

"Since when are you all shoot first ask questions later, anyway?" Dean was obviously worried about Sam. Ever since Jess's death he'd been acting different. Less like the relatively normal Sammy Winchester and more like, well, his dad.

"Since now," Sam turned away and opened the car door.

"Really?" Dean went around the car.

* * *

The trio drove over the the Collin's house. When the door opened, it revealed a young woman with long, wavy brown hair in early her twenties, who George assumed to be Haley Collins.

"You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean, this is Sam and George, we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy.?

HALEY hesitated, "Lemme see some ID."

Dean pulled out his fake ID with the name 'Samuel Cole' and held it up against the screen. Haley looked at it, then at Dean, who smiled. HALEY opened the door, "Come on in."

"Thanks."

The door swung open. Haley looked at the Impala, "That yours?"

"Yeah," Dean replied.

"Nice car," Haley complimented.

Haley turned to lead the trio into the kitchen, where a young man who George assumed to be Haley's brother was sitting at the table on a laptop. Dean turned his head and mouthed, 'Who, Me?' to Sam and George, Sam rolled his eyes while George held back a snicker.

When they got into the kitchen, Sam immediately started asking questions, "So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?"

Haley came back into the room with a bowl she placed on the table, "He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos-we haven't heard anything in over three days now."

"Well, maybe he can't get cell reception," Sam supplied.

"He's got a satellite phone, too," Haley replied.

"Maybe his phone died," George said.

"No, his phone can last for days without needing to be recharged."

"Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?"

"He wouldn't do that," Ben told them.

Dean eyed Ben. Ben looked away. Haley put more food on the table, "Our parents are gone. It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other."

"Can I see the pictures he sent you?" Sam asked.

"Yeah."

Haley took out a laptop and pulled up pictures, "That's Tommy."

Haley clicked twice and another picture came up, then the still frame opening the latest video, "Hey Haley," Video Tom spoke, "day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow."

George spotted a shadow flicking past. She shared a glance with Sam who seemed to notice it as well, "Well, we'll find your brother. We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing."

"Then maybe I'll see you there. Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself."

"I think I know how you feel."

"Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?" Sam asked.

"Sure."

* * *

A couple hours later, the trio went to a bar. A waitress walked past as they sat down, "So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found," Sam opened his dad's journal.

"Any before that?" Dean asked.

Sam pulled out newspaper articles, "Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the Same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack."

George read the headline in _The Lost Creek Gazette._

___**GRIZZLY BEAR ATTACKS!**_

'_UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA_

_HIKERS DISAPPEARANCE BAFFLE AUTHORITIES'_

Sam pulled out his laptop, "And again in 1959 and again before that in 1936," Sam opened the laptop, which already had a window open to Tommy Collin's video, "Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork. Okay. Watch this. Here's a clincher. I downloaded that guy Tommy's video to the laptop. Check this out," Sam pulled up the video and goes through three frames of the video one at a time. A shadow crossed the screen.

"Do it again," Dean said.

Sam repeated the frames, "That's three frames. That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move."

Dean hit Sam. Sam looked up, "Told you something weird was going on."

George elbowed Dean, "This is not the time for I-told-you-sos." Under her breath, she whispered, "I-told-you-so."

Sam chuckled, "Yeah."

Sam closed the laptop, "I got one more thing," Sam handed over one copy of another newspaper article to Dean, and another copy to George, "In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive."

George looked at The Lost Creek Gazette, "We got a name?"

* * *

**Okay, you might be wondering about the whole 'Janet/Greg' thing. It's mainly because of the fact that Ava stated there were a lot more Special Kids and I couldn't do anything with the ones we knew. Also George didn't say anything about it because she didn't get an address, so even if she thought it was real, she wouldn't have been able to act on it. **


	5. Memories

**Sorry that this chapter is short, but whatever. Thanks to my first reviewer, Switchblade-heart. You're awesome! Don't own Supernatural, only own George and her family yada yada.**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Memories**

After some research (which was mainly Sam looking up archives and Dean and George bullshitting. How they managed to hunt without him is another fascinating case) they managed to find the little (Well, used-to-be-little) boy named William Shaw. After even more research and bullshitting, they finally managed to locate Mr. Shaw. When they finally got to his house, he told them the story of the attack while he lead them inside his house, with a cigarette in his mouth, "Look, ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a-"

Sam interrupted, "Grizzly? That's what attacked them?"

Shaw took a puff of his cigarette, took it out, and nodded. "The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?" Dean asked.

There was a pause, "What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?" George raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms.

Another pause. "We knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it," Dean told him.

"I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make," Shaw sat down, "You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did."

Sam sat down across from Shaw, "Mr. Shaw, what did you see?" he asked with empathy. Sam was always good with the whole 'Empathy' thing.

Shaw paused as the horror that was his parents death flashed before his eyes, "Nothing. It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like...no man or animal I ever heard."

"It came at night?" Shaw nodded sadly, "Got inside your tent?"

"It got inside our cabin," Shaw replied, "I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it. Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming."

George spaced out.

_**Sixteen Years Ago**_

_'Daddy!' A six-year-old Georgia Waters wearing a Snow White nightgown with her hair a mess, squealed as her daddy walked through the door of the motel room they were staying at._

_'Hey Princess!' Scott smiled as he picked his daughter up. 'Shouldn't you be in bed?' he mock-scolded. Scott had been on a rather nasty demon hunt with John Winchester, his hunting partner. Six years and they still weren't close to finding out what killed their wives. The only thing he had to live for was his daughter, his princess, Georgia._

_'I'm not' she yawned, 'tired'._

_'Where's Dean?'_

_''e left when he saw your car.' She yawned, 'e's next door with Sammy.'_

_'I think it's time for you to go to bed,' he carried his daughter to the twin-sized bed she slept in. As he put her down and tucked her in, Georgia requested,_

_'Daddy, can you read me a sory?'_

_'Story?' Scott asked, smiling._

_''Es Daddy, sory.'_

_'Okay Georgia,' he went to the suitcase that held Georgia's bedtime stories, 'Which one?'_

_''Ancy!' Georgia squealed._

_'Nancy Drew?'_

_''Es Daddy, Ancy! Ancy! Ancy!' She bounced up and down on her bed for each 'Ancy!'. She loved it when her Daddy read her bedtimes stories about Nancy Drew, teen detective. She was a brave hero and Georgia wanted to be a hero and save the world!_

_'Okay Georgia, but only one chapter. You have to be up for school tomorrow.'_

_Georgia stuck out her lower lip and crossed her arms, 'Fine.'_

_A little while into the chapter Georgia interrupted, 'Daddy?'_

_'Yes Princess?' Scott looked down._

_'When I grow up, I wanna be jus like 'Ancy!'_

_'A detective?'_

_''Es! A ecti-deciv-' Georgia stumbled over the words._

_'Well when you're older, you can be whatever you want to be,' he smiled._

_'Daddy?'_

_'Yes?'_

_Georgia looked up at him with those big green eyes that always reminded him of Lillian, 'Why do we always move around with Sammy and 'ean and their Daddy?'_

_Scott frowned, he never wanted this question to come up, 'Work sweetheart.'_

_''kay,' Georgia's brow furrowed, 'Why don't I have a mommy?'_

**_Now_**

George was taken out of the memory by Sam speaking, "It killed them?"

Shaw replied ,"Dragged them off into the night," Shaw shook his head sadly, "Why it left me alive...been asking myself that ever since," Shaw paused, his hand went to his collar, "Did leave me this, though," Shaw opened his collar to reveal three long scars, obviously claw marks. The trio of hunters looked at them, trying to figure out what could've done it, "here's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon."

* * *

As they walked out of the house, Sam pulled George aside as Dean walked to the Impala, "What was that about?" he looked at her with concern.

"What are you talking about?" George scoffed. Sam knew something was up. She would always scoff when she was denying something and lying about it.

"That whole," Sam paused, "Spacing out thing,"

'Sam, do I have to spell it out for you? I-SPACE-D-O-N-APOSTROPHE-T-SPACE-K-N-O-W-SPACE-W-H-A-T-SPACE-Y-O-U-APOSTROPHE-R-E-SPACE-T-A-L-K-I-N-G-SPACE-A-B-O-U-T." Spelling. Next symptom of I-deny-things-even-though-something-bad-happened.

Sam laughed, "You do realize that the more you deny it, the more I'm going to believe that you're lying right?" Making his adorable bitchface- wait, adorable?

"Well you do realize the more you press, the more I'm gonna deny it right?"

He chuckled, "Idiot."

"Dick," George replied, looking down and biting her bottom lip

"Well, if anything happened you let me know."

George looked up at him _(Why is he so friggin tall?),_ and frowned"No," she denied, "You already have enough to deal with," hoping he would know what she was talking about, "Come on, Dean's gonna have a fit if we keep him waiting," quickly changing the subject. Sam rolled his eyes and followed as she ran to the Impala.

When they got to the Impala, Dean asked as George climbed into the backseat, "What's the matter? Lover's spat?"

"I-" George blushed. _Stop blushing you idiot. Good thing they can't see you in the back_, "Shut up!" Dean just laughed as he started the engine. George retaliated by throwing some old candy wrappers that had been there for who-knows-how-long at the back of his head, "I've got a whole arsenal of poptart and candy wrappers back here," she warned, "You do not want to provoke me," causing Sam to laugh and Dean to growl.

* * *

When they finally got to the inn, they walked through the corridor, that their room was in.

"Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. If they want inside, they just go through the walls," Dean pointed out.

"Yeah, but I think demons prefer to teleport."

"So it's probably something else, something corporeal."

"Corporeal? Excuse me, professor," Dean mocked.

Come on Dean," George elbowed him, "He was a college boy. In order to survive you gotta know big words."

"Shut up. So what do you think?"

"The claws, the speed that it moves...could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it."

"That's always a good thing," George said. They walked towards the exit of the inn and walked out to the parking lot, where the Impala was parked. Dean opened the trunk of the Impala, then the weapons box, and propped it open with a shotgun. He put some guns in a duffel bag. Sam and George leaned in.

"We cannot let that Haley girl go out there."

"Oh yeah, we're just gonna tell her that an evil monster most likely killed her brother and his friends and if she goes to look for it she's next?" George sighed.

"Yeah."

Dean looked at Sam, "Her brother's missing, Sam. She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend," Dean picked up the duffel.

"Finding Dad's not enough?" Sam slammed the weapons box shut, then the trunk, "Now we gotta babysit too?" Dean stared at Sam, "What?"

"Nothing," he threw the duffel bag at Sam and walked off. Sam stared after him. Sam mouthed 'What' to George while she just shrugged.

* * *

**What did you think? Like it? Hate it? I accept CC so R+R. I'm trying to get some more Little!Georgia. Back when she still had hope in her eyes *stares off into the distance* Anyway, we're starting to some strange feeling in the pit of George's stomach (Not cramps). She's starting to get an ickle crush on Sam. YAAAAY. Oh, if only she could stay this innocent.**


	6. Wendigo

**Wendigo's almost coming to a close. Think we got only one chapter left of it. Also a hint of what's coming in the next episode. Lucas(the kid from the episode)' dad dies. We have a certain OC who can relate. So what I'm trying to say is MORE FLASHBACKS! Now, on with the chapter my friends!**

* * *

_**Chapter Six: Wendigo**_

The next day, the trio went to Blackwater Ridge, where Haley was going to look for her brother. When the Impala pulled up they saw the guy Haley hired (George was gonna call him Ranger Rick) to help her find her brother, Haley, and Ben. George could see the three of them staring. Haley just shook her head. Sam, Dean, and George got out of the car. Sam opened the back door of the Impala and pulled out the duffel bag, George climbing out the door.

"You guys got room for two more?" Dean asked.

"Wait, you want to come with us?" Haley asked in disbelief.

"Who are these guys?" Ranger Rick demanded.

"Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue," Haley told him.

Sam headed past everyone. "You're rangers?" Ranger Rick asked.**  
**

"¡Sí!" George lied.

"What she said," Dean followed.

"And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?" she said, pointing to Dean, "And you're," she pointed at George,"hiking out in a tank top and sweatpants."

Dean looked down at himself, "Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts," Dean headed past Haley.

"Well, Haley," George sighed, putting a hand on Haley's shoulder, "I have two outfits," she gestured to herself, "one is my lazy-but-still-badass outfit. My other one, well," she winked, "you'll have to earn that one," she headed past Haley to Dean and Sam.

"What, you think this is funny? It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt."

"Geez, calm down Ranger Rick," George mumbled.

Sam turned back. "Believe me, I know how dangerous this could get. We just wanna help her find her brother, that's all," Dean headed past Sam and George.

* * *

Later, the group hiked through the forest, Ranger Rick (George found out his name was Roy, but that was beside the point) in the lead, then Dean, Haley, Ben, finally George and Sam in the back. "Roy, you said you did a little hunting," Dean pointed out.

"Yeah, more than a little," Ranger Ri-Roy responded.

"Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?"

"Mostly buck, sometimes bear."

Dean passed Roy, "Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?" Roy grabbed Dean. Sam and George looked on. "Whatcha doing, Roy?"

Roy grabbed a stick and poked the bear trap Dean had almost stepped in. George wanted to think _idiot _but she realized she would have done the exact sam thing, so she had a blank expression. Haley just looked plain annoyed. "You should watch where you're stepping. Ranger," Roy dropped the stick and retook the lead.

"It's a bear trap," Dean said.

They hiked on. Haley caught up to Dean, "You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You're not rangers," Haley grabbed Dean's arm, "So who the hell are you?"

Ben went past Haley and Dean. Sam looked at Dean and George raised an eyebrow, Dean indicated with his expression that Sam and George were to go on by; They both obeyed. Dean watched them go for a moment, "Sam and I are brothers, and George is my almost-sister, and we're looking for our father. He might be here, we don't know. I just figured that you and me, we're in the Same boat."

"Why didn't you just tell me that from the start?" Haley asked.

"I'm telling you now. 'sides, it's probably the most honest I've ever been with a woman. ...ever. So we okay?"

There was a pause, "Yeah, okay," Haley agreed.

"And what do you mean I didn't pack provisions?" Dean pulled out a big bag of peanut M&Ms and stuck his hand in the bag as he hiked on. HALEY waited a moment, then followed.

* * *

A little while later, Roy lead the way, followed by Sam, George, Ben, Haley, and Dean, "This is it. Blackwater Ridge."

Sam and George headed past Roy, "What coordinates are we at?" Sam asked.

Roy pulled out a GPS, "Thirty-five and minus one-eleven."

Dean came up to Sam and George. The three of them listened, "You hear that?"

"Yeah. Not even crickets," Sam agreed.

"Quieter than a Church bathroom," George said.

"I'm gonna go take a look around," Roy told them

"You shouldn't go off by yourself," Sam warned him.

"That's sweet. Don't worry about me," Roy waved his gun and pushed between the trio of hunters to retake the lead. Dean turned back to the others as Ben and Haley caught up. "All right, everybody stays together. Let's go."

* * *

While looking for the campsite, Sam, Dean, George, Ben, and Haley were looking around near a large rock. "Haley! Over here!" Roy shouted.

Haley ran towards Roy's voice, followed closely by the others. They came to a halt. "Oh my God."

The tents were torn open and bloody and all the supplies were scattered. "Looks like a grizzly," Roy said.

Dean and Haley looked around. "Tommy?" Haley took off her backpack and went through the campsite. "Tommy!" she shouted.

Sam and George moved to catch up with Haley. "Shh," Sam shushed.

"Tommy!" Haley continued.

"Shush!" George whispered, putting her finger on her lips.

"Why?" Haley asked.

"Something might still be out there," Sam explained.

"Sam! George!" Dean called out.

Said hunters went over to Dean, Sam snapping a stick, and crouched next to him, "The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish. That's weird." The three hunters stood up, "I'll tell you what, that's no skinwalker or black dog."

Dean went back to the campsite and the other hunters followed. Haley picked up Tommy's bloody cell phone. She began to cry. She turned the phone over and the back was open. Dean crouched next to her, "Hey, he could still be alive." Haley gave Dean a Look

Suddenly, a voice called out, "Help! Help!"

Roy lead the way as everyone ran to the aid of the shouter, "Help! Somebody!" the voice continued. When they finally stopped, they found no one.

"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Haley pointed out.

They listened for a voice, "Everybody back to camp," Sam ordered.

Back at the campsite, all the supplies was missing. "Our packs!" Haley exclaimed.

"So much for my GPS and my satellite phone," Roy sighed in defeat.

"What the hell is going on?" Haley asked.

"Whatever this thing is, it's good," George explained, "Trying to cut us off so we can't call for help."

"You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear," Roy said.

Sam pulled George aside and went over to Dean, "I need to speak with you both. In private." The three of them headed a little ways away from the group, "Good. Let me see Dad's journal," Dean handed it over. Sam opened it and flipped through until he stopped on the Wendigo page, "All right, check that out."

Sam pointed to a drawing of a Wendigo.

"Oh come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan."

"I've don't think we've ever came across one this far west," George pointed out.

"Think about it, guys, the claws, the way it can mimic a human voice."

"Great," Dean took out his pistol, George doing the same, "Well then this is useless."

Sam gave Dean back John's journal (Again with the alliteration. It's either the worst or best thing a human being can say) and headed past Dean and George. He stopped for a moment, "We gotta get these people to safety."

The trio traveled back to the campsite. Back at the campsite, Sam addressed the group, "All right, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten...more complicated."

"What?" Haley asked in disbelief.

"Kid, don't worry," Roy 'assured' them, "Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it."

"It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now," Sam demanded.

"One, you're talking nonsense," Roy listed, "Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders."

"Calm down guys," George intervened.

"We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you."

ROY stepped right into Sam's space, "You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night."

"Yeah?" Sam asked, "It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here."

Roy laughed, "You know you're crazy, right?"

"Yeah? You ever hunt a wen-" Dean pushed Sam

"Roy!" Haley shouted.

"Chill out." Dean told Sam.

"Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him," Haley affirmed.

There was a long pause, "It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves."

"How?"

* * *

**Okay! We finally got Chapter 6 up! I hope it's good. Thank you to reviewer switchblade-heart for being an awesome person. We got a teeny-tiny bit of insight on how Dean sees George. Don't worry, when Sam and George get together, Dean's gonna be making a LOT of incest jokes that George may or may not punch him in the face for.**


	7. Finding Tom-o

**Okay, Wendigos finished! I hope you guys like it.**

* * *

_**Chapter 7: Finding Tom-o**_

Later at the campsite, they had built a fire. Dean was drawing something in the dirt around the campsite while Haley poked at the fire, "One more time, that's-"

"Anasazi symbols," Dean interrupted, "It's for protection. The wendigo can't cross over them." Roy laughed. He had a gun over his shoulder. "Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy," Dean headed over to sit next to Sam and George, who were at the edge of the campsite. "You wanna tell me what's going on in those freaky heads of yours?"

"Dean-" Sam was cut off.

"No, you're not fine. You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. George, don't think I didn't notice you spacing out back at Ol' Man Shaw's. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?"

There was a pause, "Dad's not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?"

"I mean" George said, "you're Dad is known for being extremely, 100% clear, but I don't think he would ever be this cryptic."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek."

"Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?" Sam asked.

"This is why," Dean came around to the other hunters' front and held up the journal. "This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession-everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.z"

Sam shook his head, "That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just-call us? Why doesn't he-tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?"

"I dunno. But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it."

"As do I," George spoke up.

"Guys...no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about."

"Okay, all right," Dean agreed, "Sam, we'll find them, I promise. Listen to me. You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man.

Sam looked down, then up, "How do you do it? How does Dad do it?"

Dean and George looked over at Haley and Ben, "Well for one, them." Sam looked over at Haley and Ben, "I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable." There was a pause.

"Wanna know what else helps?" George asked.

Sam looked back at George, "Ganking as many evil douchebags as I possibly can."

Sam smiled. A twig snapped.

A voice called out, presumably the Wendigo, "Help me! Please!" Dean stood up and readied his gun. "Help!" The Wendigo called out again.

Sam shined a flashlight about. "He's trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put," Dean ordered.

"Inside the magic circle?" Roy scoffed.

"Help! Help me!" The Wendigo called out again, growling.

Roy pointed his gun at the sound, "Okay, that's no grizzly."

Haley talked to Ben, "It's okay. You'll be all right, I promise."

Something rushed past. Haley shrieked. "It's here," Sam spoke.

Roy shot at the rustling, then again, "I hit it!" Roy went to see what he hit.

"Roy, stay back!" George warned.

Dean turned to Haley and Ben, "Don't move."

Haley was holding a stick, burning at one end, as a weapon. The three hunters ran after Roy.

"It's over here! It's in the tree!" A voice shouted.

The Wendigo reached down from the tree and snapped Roy's neck.

"Roy!" Dean shouted.

* * *

Sam and George were sitting against a hollow tree stump, he held John's journal and played with a lanyard attached to the journal. George was reading over his shoulder, resisting the weird urge to put her head on his shoulder. Dean, Haley, and Ben were among the tents. "I don't...I mean, these types of things, they aren't supposed to be real," Haley said.

"I wish I could tell you different," Dean told her.

"How do we know it's not out there watching us?" Haley asked, scared.

"We don't. But we're safe for now.," Dean replied.

"How do you know about this stuff?" Haley asked.

There was a pause while Dean considered, "Kind of runs in the family."

Sam and George came over. "Hey," Sam said. Haley stood up. "So we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch."

"I second that notion," George declared.

"Well, hell," (Ooh rhyming) "you know I'm in."

Sam showed the wendigo page of John's journal to Haley and Ben. "'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours'."

"They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter," Dean told her.

"How's a man turn into one of those things?" Haley asked.

Dean picked a couple things up off the ground.

"Same thing every time," George informed her, "During some harsh winter some guy will find himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp."

"Like the Donner Party," Ben pointed out.

"Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality," Sam listed.

"If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry."

"So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?" Haley asked.

George grimaced, "Don't think you'll like it.

George glanced at Sam and Dean, then back to Haley. "Tell me," Haley demanded.

George gave Dean a look to say 'You tell her', "More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there."

"And then how do we stop it?" Haley asked.

"Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically-" Dean held up the can of lighter fluid, the beer bottle, and the white cloth he'd picked up. "We gotta torch the sucker."

* * *

They hiked through the woods, Dean leading the way, Molotov cocktail in hand. Haley follows, then Ben, Sam, then George. They passed trees with claw marks and blood.

* * *

A little while later, Sam was leading the group now, George right behind him. "Dean," Sam called out.

Dean caught up to them, "What is it?"

The three of them looked around at the trees. There were bloody claw marks and broken branches everywhere, "You know, I was thinking, those claw prints, so clear and distinct. They were almost too easy to follow."

"I had the same thought myself," George breathed.

Suddenly, there was the sound of growling. Sam, Dean, and George whipped around. There were trees ruffling.

Haley was standing under a tree. Blood dripped on her shirt. She noticed and looked up, then leapt out of the way; Roy's corpse landed where she'd stood. Dean and George examined Roy as Sam went over to Haley.

"You okay? You got it?" Sam asked.

"His neck's broke," Dean pointed out.

"No shit Sherlock," George mumbled under her breath.

Sam helped Haley up. The sound of growling continued.

"Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!" Dean ordered.

Everybody ran away. While running, Ben fell and Sam hurried back to help him up, dividing the group two and two. "Come on, I gotcha, I gotcha."

Dean, Haley, and George stopped short: the wendigo was in front of them. Haley screamed.

"Haley?" Ben called out.

Sam stopped running and picked up Dean's Molotov cocktail, the bottle broken.

"Dean!"

* * *

In the forest, Ben and Sam were looking for Haley, George and Dean.

"If it keeps its victims alive, why would it kill Roy?"

"Honestly? I think because Roy shot at it, pissed it off."

Ben noticed a trail of peanut M&Ms and picked one up. "They went this way."

Sam caught up to BEN, who handed over the M&M. Sam laughed. "It's better than breadcrumbs." Sam tossed the M&M away.

Sam and Ben followed the trail. They finally came to a mine entrance marked with a sign that said, 'WARNING! DANGER! DO NOT ENTER EXTREMELY TOXIC MATERIAL'. Sam looked at Ben, shrugged, and went inside. Ben followed. Above the entrance was a larger sign that said, 'KEEP OUT NO ADMITTANCE'.

* * *

When they entered the mine, Sam shined the flashlight ahead of them. He heard growling; Sam shut off the light and pulled Ben against the wall. The wendigo came towards them. Sam covered Ben's mouth before he could scream. The wendigo took a different tunnel at the crossing. Sam and Ben kept going. The floorboards creaked and Ben and Sam fell through the floor; they landed in a pile of bones. There was another pile nearby of skulls. Ben spotted them and leapr backward.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay." Sam and Ben looked up; Dean, Haley, and George were hanging by their wrists from the ceiling. Sam ran to Dean, Ben to Haley, "Dean! George!"

"Haley, wake up!" Ben said.

Sam grabbed Dean and shook him. "Dean!"

Dean opened his eyes, "Hey, you okay?"

Dean winced, "Yeah."

Sam shook George, "George!"

George groaned, "What?"

"You okay?"

George smiled, "Peachy. Would be doing something with my hands, but you can see," George looked up, "I'm kinda tied up at the moment." Sam laughed.

"Haley, Haley, wake up, wake up!" Ben kept saying.

Sam cut Dean down, then George, and Ben took care of Haley. They helped them over to an empty patch of floor and got them sat down. Dean and George made pained noises.

"You sure you two are all right?"

Dean grimaced, "Yeah. Yep. Where is he?"

"He's gone for now," Sam informed them.

Haley divested herself of rope. She stood up and spots TOM still hanging and starts crying, "Tommy..."

Haley touched Tommy's cheek. Tommy's head jerked up. Haley jumped back and shrieked. She turned to Sam, "Cut him down!" Sam cut Tommy down. "We're gonna get you home."

The stolen supplies were piled in the corner. Dean picked up flare guns, "Check it out."

George grinned, "Flare guns. Those'll definitely work."

Sam grinned. Dean laughed and twirled the guns.

They headed down a tunnel, the three hunters were in the lead with the flare guns and Haley and Ben supporting Tommy, who was limping.

They heard growling.

"Looks like someone's home for supper," Dean commented.

"We'll never outrun it," Haley said.

Dean looked back at the others, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Think so," George replied.

"All right, listen to me. Stay with Sam and George. They're gonna get you out of here."

"What are you gonna do?" Haley asked.

Dean winked and started walking and yelling, "Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I'm feeling _good."_

Dean faded out.

Sam waited until Dean was a safe distance away, "All right, come on! Hurry!"

The Collinses follow Sam and George down the tunnel.

* * *

Back at the mine, Dean was taunting the Wendigo, "Hey! Hey, you want some white meat, bitch! I'm right here!"

* * *

Sam, George, Haley, Ben, and Tommy hurried down a tunnel.

Growling could be heard. Sam and George pointed their guns at it, then lowered their guns and turned to the Collinses.

"Get him outta here," Sam ordered.

"Sam, no."

"Go! Go! Go!" George demanded.

"Come on, Haley!"

Haley and Ben helped Tommy along the mine tunnel.

Sam held the flare gun ready to shoot, with George next to him, doing the same. They were both looking down the tunnel.

"Come on. Come on." Sam said.

Growling continued. Sam and George turned: the wendigo was right in their faces. Sam shoots and misses, George shot and missed as well, then ran after the Collinses.

"Sam! George!" Haley shouted.

Said hunters caught up, "Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry."

They ran to the end of the tunnel, the wendigo right behind.

"Get behind us," George ordered.

The wendigo approached, taking its time.

Dean came up behind the wendigo. "Hey!" Dean shouted.

The wendigo turned. Dean shot it in the stomach. The flare went off and the wendigo went up in flames. "Not bad, huh?"

Sam and George grinned.

* * *

An ambulance loaded up Tommy. Two Police Officers were interviewing Ben; Sam stood behind BEN. "And the bear came back again after you yelled at it?"

"That's when it circled the campsite. I mean, this grizzly must have weighed eight hundred, nine hundred pounds," Ben lied.

Sam nodded. "All right, we'll go after it first thing," the officer replied.

Haley talked to Dean and George; all three have already been patched up. "So I don't know how to thank you."

Dean smirked lasciviously as George elbowed him. Haley smiled despite herself. "Must you cheapen the moment?"

"Yeah."

"All he knows how to do."

A paramedic came up to HALEY, "You two riding with your brother?"

"Yeah."

The paramedic headed back to the ambulance. Haley turned to Ben. "Let's go."

Sam and Ben nodded at each other. Haley kissed Dean on the cheek. George wiggled her eyebrows.

"I hope you find your father," Haley said.

Haley and Ben headed for the ambulance, "Thanks, Sam. You too George."

Haley and Ben climbed in the ambulance with Tommy, who was shirtless and bandaged.

Sam and George sat on the Impala's hood with Dean.

"Close her up," A second paramedic ordered.

A third paramedic closed the ambulance doors.

"Man, I hate camping."

"Me too," Sam replied.

"Me three," George held up a hand.

They could hear the sounds of the ambulance driving away.

"Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?" Dean told him.

"Yeah, I know. But in the meantime? I'm driving."

Dean tossed Sam the keys.

The three of them got in the car, slamming the doors almost in sync.

The car started and drove off.

* * *

**How was it? One of my favorite episodes of S1 is coming up**


	8. Dead Dads Club

**Don't own it**

* * *

_**Chapter 8: Dead Dads Club**_

A couple weeks later, the trio of hunters were searching for a case in the newspaper in a diner. Dean sat with an empty plate of food in front of him. George was sitting on the other side of the table, digging into a plate full of sausage. Dean circled an obituary that read:

'CARLTON, SOPHIE -The Carlton family is sad to announce the death of their beloved daughter in a tragic swimming accident. Sophie Carlton, 18, was having her daily swim in Lake Manitoc, WI, an amazing space for a swim, when suddenly she tragically drowned.'

A waitress, who George might add was very easy on the eyes, named Wendy, approached, "Can I get you anything else?"

Dean looked up and grinned around the pen he was chewing on.

Sam came over and sat down, "Just the check please." George stuck out her bottom lip.

"Okay," Wendy walked away. Dean dropped his head, then looked at Sam.

"You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while."

"There isn't a rule saying no waitresses on the job," George said.

Dean pointed to Wendy walking away; she was wearing short shorts, "That's fun."

Sam just looked at him. Dean handed Sam the newspaper. "Here, take a look at this, I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago."

"A funeral?"

"Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure or whatever."

"You may be surprised," George deadpanned, "But closure makes some people feel better."

"Woah, sorry," Dean apologized.

"s'fine," George waved it off.

"Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, guys. Other people just stop looking for them," Sam reminded them.

"Something you want to say to me?" Dean asked.

"The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day," Sam explained.

"That's exactly the point. What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know. Something. Anything."

"You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think we wanna find Dad as much as you do?"

"Yeah, I know you do, it's just—" Sam was cut off by Dean.

We're the ones that have been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?"

Sam rolled his eyes. Wendy the Waitress walked by, distracting Dean and getting a bit of a stare from George. "All right, Lake Manitoc. Hey!"

Dean returned his attention to Sam. "Huh?"

"How far?"

* * *

The Impala pulled up in front of the Carlton house. It was painted green with a red roof. It was rather old looking. They walked up to the house and Dean knocked on the door. A young man opened it.

"Will Carlton?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, that's right," Will responded.

"I'm Agent Ford. This is Agent Hamill and Agent Fisher. We're with the US Wildlife Service." Dean held up an ID. Will Carlton brought them around the house to see Bill Carlton, who was sitting on a bench on the dock.

"She was about a hundred yards out," Will told them, "That's where she got dragged down."

"And you're sure she didn't just drown?" George asked.

"Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as she was in her own bathtub."

"So no splashing? No signs of distress?" Sam asked.

"No, that's what I'm telling you."

"Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?" Sam questioned.

"No. Again, she was really far out there."

"You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?" Dean asked.

No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?

"We'll let you know as soon as we do."

Dean headed back to the car.

"What about your father?" Sam asked.

Dean stopped and turned back.

"Can we talk to him?" George asked.

Will turned to look at Bill, then turned back. "Look, if you don't mind, I mean...he didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot."

"We understand."

The three hunters went to the car.

* * *

They talked to Sheriff Jake Devins.

"Now, I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?" Jake asked.

"You sure it's accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister," George told him.

"Like what?'

They walked into Jake's office. Jake motioned to chairs in front of his desk. "Here, sit, please. There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake." The three hunters sat. "There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster."

"Yeah," Dean laughed, "Right."

Sam glanced at Dean. "Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still-" Jake sat down, "We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there."

"That's weird, though, I mean, that's, that's the third missing body this year.

"I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about."

"I know."

"Anyway..." Jake sighed, "All this...it won't be a problem much longer."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"Well, the dam, of course," Jake explained.

"Of course, the dam. It's, uh, it sprung a leak."

"It's falling apart, and the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that."

"Exactly."

A young woman tapped on the door. "Sorry, am I interrupting?" she asked. The three hunters stood up. "I can come back later."

"Gentlemen, this is my daughter."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dean," Dean shook the woman's hand.

"Andrea Barr. Hi."

"Hi," Dean greeted.

"They're from the Wildlife Service. About the lake," Jake introduced.

"Oh." A boy, most likely her son, walked in around Andrea.

"Oh, hey there. What's your name?"

The boy walked away without speaking. Andrea followed.

"His name is Lucas."

"Is he okay?"

"My grandson's been through a lot. We all have." Jake stood and went to the office door. "Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know."

The four of them left the office.

"Thanks. You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?" Dean asked.

"Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south."

"Two-would you mind showing us?" Dean asked.

Andrea laughed, "You want me to walk you two blocks?"

"Not if it's any trouble."

"I'm headed that way anyway," Andrea turned to Jake. "I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three." Andrea turned to Luca. "We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?" Andrea kissed Lucas on the head.

Dean waved as they leave. Jake nodded.

"Thanks again," Sam thanked.

* * *

Andrea lead the three hunters along the street.

"So, cute kid."

"Thanks."

They crossed a street. "Kids are the best, huh?" Dean complimented

Andrea glanced at him and ignored him. They kept walking. They stopped in front of the Lakefront Motel. "There it is. Like I said, two blocks."

"Thanks."

Andrea addressed Dean. "Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line."

Andrea left, calling back over her shoulder. "Enjoy your stay!"

"'Kids are the best'? You don't even like kids."

"I love kids," Dean shot back.

"Name three children that you even know."

"I can," George said with a triumphant smile on her face, "James Wilson, the one whose mom we saved from getting her heart ripped out of her by a werewolf. Olivia Darly, saved her from being vampire chow, and Rupert Mason whose house was haunted by a vengeful spirit."

"See, now she likes kids." Sam agreed.

"Now you name three Dean."

Dean thought and came up empty. Sam waved a hand. Sam and George walked into the motel. Dean scratched his head. "I'm thinking!"

* * *

Sam was working on his laptop and Dean was going through his clothing. George was lying on a bed using her laptop, chewing on a chocolate bar.

"So there's the three drowning victims this year."

"Any before that?" George asked with a mouthful of chocolate.

"Uh, yeah." Sam had a browser window open to The Lake Manitoc Tribune. **DROWNING TAINTS ICE FISHING FESTIVAL**. He clicked, and another browser window came up, again the Tribune: **12-YEAR-OLD Girl DROWNS IN LAKE**, **Second drowning in 6 months at Lake Manitoc. "**Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace."

Dean tossed an item of clothing onto a bed. "So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?"

"This whole lake monster theory, it, it just bugs me."

Dean came over to read over Sam's shoulder. "Why?"

"Loch Ness, uh, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing.

Sam looked at the Tribune homepage. "Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it." Sam scrolled to the comments section of an article. Dean pointed at it.

"Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?"

Sam read from the page. "Christopher Barr, the victim in May."

Sam clicked a link, opening a new page. **LOCAL Man IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT**. The picture loads: it shows a police officer with Lucas. "Oh. Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued." Sam clicked the picture for a better look, then scratches his head. "Maybe we have an eyewitness after all."

"No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over."_  
_

* * *

Your father is dead.

_Those words still bounced around inside her head. When she had heard the door open, eight-year-old Georgia did not expect John Winchester to come in, and tell her the terrible news. She ran t__o the bed she was resting on and she cried like a baby. Once she was done crying, John had taken her to the motel room that Sam and Dean were at. Instead of greeting them, she just stayed silent with a blank face. She didn't smile nor frown. Even six months later, she still hadn't spoken a word. Care-free, smiling, laughing Georgia was gone and replaced with a silent George. _

_It wasn't like she couldn't speak, that there was some something psychologically wrong with her. It's just that she didn't see the point. What was the point of speaking if her dad wasn't ever going to be on the receiving end ever again? _

_George had communicated to everyone for the last six months by writing it down. It got tedious, at times, to have to tell the teachers (well, show), that she didn't speak. Some were okay with it. Others weren't as accepting. But she didn't care. There was only one person who's opinion mattered, and he was dead. She didn't even remember what her voice sounded like. She hadn't spoken a word when she found out monsters were real. She hadn't spoken a word on her ninth birthday either. The first time she spoke a word since she found out was when she found out what killed him. John had finally told her that a werewolf had murdered her dad. It wasn't much. It wasn't a 'Oh my god' or more crying. It was a simple,_

_'Yes, sir.'_

* * *

At the park, Kids were laughing and playing. Andrea sat on a bench and watched Lucas, who was at another bench coloring and playing with toy soldiers.

"Can we join you?" Sam asked.

Andrea looked up to see Sam, Dean, and George.

"I'm here with my son."

George looked over at Lucas.

"Oh. Mind if we say hi?" Dean and George went over to Lucas.

"Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me."

Sam sat down next to Andrea. "I don't think that's what this is about."w

Dean and George approached Lucas. "How's it going?"

Dean kneeled down next to the bench where Lucas was coloring; when Lucas didn't even look up, Dean picked up one of the toy soldiers. "Oh, I used to love these things."Dean imitated guns and explosions, then tossed the toy soldier down.

"Think thats bad? Try living with him," George laughed.

Dean mock-scowled, "So crayons is more your thing? That's cool. Chicks dig artists."

Lucas had a pile of drawings on the bench. George look closer at them. The top one was of a big black swirl; the second one was of a red bicycle.

Dean: Hey, these are pretty good. You mind if I sit and draw with you for a while?

Dean picks up a crayon.

Dean: I'm not so bad myself.

Dean sat down on the bench, picked up a pad of paper, and started drawing. "You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something." There was a pause. "Anyway. Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake. Okay, no problem. This is for you." Dean held out to Lucas the picture he drew. It was stick figures. "This is my family." Dean pointed at each person in turn. "That's my dad. That's my mom. That's my geek brother. Thats my annoying sister-"

"Shut up."

Dean chuckled, "And that's me"

There was a pause. "All right, so I'm a sucky artist. I'll see you around, Lucas." Dean headed back to Sam and Andrea. Lucas picked up the picture.

"Listen Lucas," George got down on one knee, "I know what it's like to loose your dad. I didn't see mine die, but it can be horrible," George sighed, "I didn't talk for one and a half years." George took a breath, "Look, I probably got off-topic, but what I'm attempting to say is, it gets better. May not seem like it, but it will." Lucas barely acknowledged her. "Okay tried that." George headed back to Dean, Sam, and Andrea.

"Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident," She heard Andrea say as she walked back.

"Yeah, we heard. Sorry," Dean said.

Andrea nodded.

"What are the Doctors saying?" Sam asked.

George rejoined the group as Andrea said, "That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress."

"That can't be easy. For either of you."

"We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw..."

There was a pause. "Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with." Dean told her.

Lucas left the bench, heading for the group.

"You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish-"

Lucas walked up, carrying a picture.

"Hey sweetie," Andrea greeted."

Lucas handed Dean the picture. "Thanks. Thanks, Lucas." Lucas headed back to the bench.

* * *

**So what do you think? Yay or nay? I always accept CC, so be sure to R&R**


	9. It's Worse Than Dying

**Hello my fans and others! Welcome to another chapter of Restarting! I also have one question for you guys. Should I write a new story for each season, or should I make it one gigantic one? Anyway on with the chapter!**

* * *

_**Chapter 9: It's Worse Than Dying**_

Dean was inside the motel room sitting on a bed. Sam opened the door and came in, George following.

"So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked. Sam sat down next to Dean.

George leaned against the door frame. "Just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."

"He drowned?" Dean asked.

"Yep," George nodded

"In the sink," Sam clarified.

"What the hell? So you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else."

"Yeah, but what?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. Maybe a..." George looked for the word, "Water wraith? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the Same source."

"The lake," Dean replied.

"Yeah," Sam said.

"Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time."

"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere." Dean stood up. "This is gonna happen again soon." Dean sat down on a chair.

"And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton."

"Yeah, it took both his kids," Dean replied.

"And I've been asking around. Lucas's dad, Chris-Bill Carlton's godson."

"Well you know what I think?" George walked into the room. "I think we should pay Mr. Number One Lead a visit."

* * *

Bill Carlton was sitting on the bench on the dock.

"Mr. Carlton?

Bill looked up. Sam, Dean, and George approached. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind," Sam said.

"We're from the, the Department-" George was cut off.

"I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today."

Sam continued, "Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there? Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death-we think there might be a connection to you or your family."

"My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please."

The trio of hunters headed back to the car. "What do you think?"

"Aw, I think the poor guy's been through hell. I also think he's not telling us something," Dean replied.

Sam leaned on the Impala. "So now what?" Dean went still.

"What is it?" George asked.

"Huh." Dean was looking at the Carlton house. "Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something." Dean pulled out the picture Lucas brought him, which was of the Carlton house. Dean looked at the other two.

* * *

"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea," Andrea said.

"We just need to talk to him," George pleaded.

Sam, Dean, and George were inside Andrea's house.

"Just for a few minutes," compromised.

"He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?" Andrea asked.

"Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there." Sam told her.

"My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all." Andrea told them.

"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let us talk to your son."

* * *

Lucas was coloring, toy soldiers standing around him. Dean, George, Andrea, and Sam approached the doorway. Dean entered and crouched down by Lucas, George standing next to him.

"Hey, Lucas. Remember us?" George asked.

Lucas had drawn two more pictures of a red bicycle.

"You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again."

Lucas was drawing a person in water. Dean opened the house picture and put it down in front of LUCAS.

"Now, how did you know to draw this?" George crouched down next to him. "Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me."

Lucas kept coloring.

"You're scared. It's okay. I understand," Dean told him, "See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom-I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too."

Lucas dropped his crayon and looked up at the two. He handed Dean a picture of a white church, a yellow house, and a boy with a blue baseball cap and red bicycle in front of a wooden fence. "Thanks, Lucas."

* * *

**_12 Years Ago_**

_"DADDY!" George screamed, looking at the scene that held out before her. There was a werewolf tearing her father to shreds. His gun had been out of reach, and this werewolf was not happy about hunters on it's trail._

_"Georgia, stay away!" Scott ordered. Silently, George was hoping her screaming could distract the werewolf, but it seemed fixed on murdering her father._

_ Instead of doing the just-ripping-the-heart-out routine, it ripped Scott Waters to shreds. _

_Once Scott was ripped to shreds, the werewolf walked away. George couldn't hold herself back anymore, and ran towards her father, or what was left of her father. She crumpled to her knees and burst into tears. "Daddy," she whimpered, "No."_

_George woke up with a start. This had been happening a lot now. Ever since she had found out what had killed her father, she had nightmares involving how he was killed, and her no being able to do anything about it. The rational part of her brain told her there was nothing she could do about it. The other part said there must have been something that she could do. The first thing she noticed was the fact that her pillow was wet. She sat up and saw Dean sleeping on the couch of the motel and Sam sleeping on the other bed. She collapsed back into the pillow and felt tears escaping her eyes, and drifted off to sleep._

* * *

Dean and Sam were in the front seats of The Impala, George lying down in the back. Sam was holding the church picture.

"Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died.

"There are cases-going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies." Sam listed.

"Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please," Dean replied.

"All right, we got another house to find."

"The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone."

Sam looked at the picture. "See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here."

"Oh, college boy thinks he's so smart." Dean mocked.

"You know, um..." Sam trailed off, "What you said about Mom... You never told me that before."

"It's no big deal." Dean said, "Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?"

George pretended to hold a camera between the two of them, "Now kiss!"

"I will kill you," Dean promised.

* * *

The three of them approached a white church shaped like the one in Lucas' picture. Dean held up the picture and looked at it, as he compared it to the scene in front of him; there was a yellow house next to the church and a wooden fence was near the house. Sam looked at Dean. The trio of hunters looked up at the church and crossed the street to the house.

* * *

Dean, Sam, and George were inside the house, they were to an old woman, Mrs. Sweeney.

"-but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle." Dean continued.

"No sir." Mrs. Sweeney answered, "Not for a very long time. Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now."

There was a picture of Peter on the side table. Mrs. Sweeney sighed. "The police never-I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared.

Sam pointed out to Dean and George a number of toy soldiers on a table.

"Losing him-you know, it's...it's worse than dying."

_Didn't Bill Carlton say that? _Dean obvious thought the same as he glanced at Sam, then George.

"Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?" George asked.

"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up."

Dean picked a picture off the mirror. There were two boys in the picture, one Peter with a bicycle. Dean read from the back of the picture. "_Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy._"

* * *

The trio were in The Impala, in their usual spots.

"Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow." Sam stated.

"Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?" George said.

"And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished." Sam said.

"So what if Bill did something to Peter?"

"What if Bill killed him?"

"Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible."

George attempted (but failed) to hide her laughter with a cough. Sam turned around, "What?"

"Kill Bill?" George joked.

Sam sighed while Dean snickered..

* * *

The Impala pulled up in front of the Carlton house. The three of them approached the house. "Mr. Carlton?" An engine roared.

* * *

The trio went around the house. Bill was going out on the lake in his boat.

"Hey, check it out."

They ran to the end of the dock, yelling.

"Mr. Carlton! You need to come back! Come out of the water! Turn the boat around!" Dean yelled.

"Come back!" George shouted out.

"Mr. Carlton!" Sam called out.

Bill ignored them and kept going. The water rose up and flipped Bill's boat over. It and he vanished.

* * *

In the police station, Lucas was sitting in a chair, rocking back and forth. Andrea was sitting next to him, she held a paper bag and a plastic container. "Baby, what's wrong?" She asked. Sam, Dean, George, and Jake Devins walked in the door. Andrea looked over. "Sam, Dean, George." Andrea stood up, she put the bag and container on her chair. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"So now you're on a first-name basis. What are you doing here?" Jake demanded.

"I brought you dinner." She told him.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Jake apologized, "I don't really have the time."

"I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?" Andrea asked.

"Right now we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home." Jake responded.

Lucas looks up and whines, looking stricken; he jumped up and grabbed Dean's arm. "Lucas, hey, what is it?" Dean asked, "Lucas."

"Lucas." Andrea said.

"Lucas, it's okay. It's okay. Hey, Lucas, it's okay. It's okay." Dean comforted.

Andrea pulled Lucas away from Dean and lead him outside. Lucas didn't look away from Dean.

Jake threw down his jacket and went into his office. The three hunters followed. "Okay, just so I'm clear, you see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill-who is a very good swimmer, by the way-into the drink, and you never see him again?"

Dean glanced at Sam, the George. "Yeah, that about sums it up."

"And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service?" George's eyes widened. _S__hit_. "That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you two."

"See, now, we can explain that."

"Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."

"Door number two sounds good." Sam said.

"That's the one I'd pick."

* * *

The three hunters were in the Impala. Dean was driving, Sam was riding shotgun, and George was stuffing her face with as much candy she could find that wasn't going to give a lethal illness. They were waiting at a traffic light. A sign said I-43 North to Milwaukee is to the left. The light turned green. The Impala didn't move.

"Green." Sam stated.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Light's green dumbass." George said with her mouth full of a snickers bar.

Dean turned right.

"Uh, the interstate's the other way." Sam reminded him.

"I know."

* * *

They were in the car

"But Dean, this job, I think it's over."

"I'm not so sure."

"If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest." Sam reminded.

"All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?"

"But why would you think that?" Sam asked.

"Because Lucas was really scared."

"He's got a point," George wiped her face with her hand,"the kid looked terrified."

"That's what this is about?"

"I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay."

"Until then, we stay."

"Who are you? And what have you done with my brother and George Waters?"

Dean glanced at Sam. "Shut up."

George just kicked the back of Sam's seat.

* * *

The three hunters arrived.

"Are you sure about this? It's pretty late."

Dean rang the doorbell. At that moment, Lucas opened the door, desperately afraid.

"Lucas, what's wrong?" George asked.

"Lucas? Lucas!" Dean exclaimed.

Lucas took off. The other three followed him to the hallway.

Water was pouring out from under the bathroom door and down the stairs. Lucas started pounding on the bathroom door again. Dean pushed him over to Sam and kicked in the door. Lucas grabbed Dean, so Sam and George ran into the bathroom. Sam stuck his arms in the tub, trying to pull Andrea out. She is pulled back under. George stuck her arms to help. They kept pulling until Andrea was all the way out. She started coughing up water.

* * *

**So what did you guys think? Remember, I always am happy to see reviews and CC.**


	10. Come Play With Me

**Okay, the final chapter of Dead in the Water. Don't own SPN.**

* * *

_**Chapter 10: Come Play With Me**_

Dawn was breaking. Sam, George, and Andrea were sitting in the living room. Andrea was dry and wore comfortable clothing.

"Can you tell me?" Sam asked.

"No." Andrea replied. Dean was looking through notebooks on bookshelves. "It doesn't make any sense." Andrea started crying. "I'm going crazy." She put her face in her hands.

"No, you're not," Sam reassured, "Tell me what happened. Everything."

"I heard...I thought I heard...there was this voice." Andrea admitted.

"What did it say?" George asked.

"It said...it said 'come play with me'." Andrea sobbed. "What's happening?"

Back at the bookshelves, Dean pulled out a scrapbook that says 'Jake - 12 years old' and opened it, flipping pages. He closed it again and went to Sam, George, and Andrea; he put the book down in front of Andrea, open to a picture of Explorer Troop 37. "Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?"

"What? Um, um, no. I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures." She moved her finger over to another picture of Jake as a child; he is standing next to Peter. Dean glanced at the other hunters.

"Chris Barr's drowning. The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the Sheriff." Dean realized.

"Bill and the Sheriff-they were both involved with Peter." George said.

"What about Chris? My dad-what are you talking about?" Andrea asked.

Dean looked sideways. "Lucas?" Lucas was staring out the window. "Lucas, what is it?"

Lucas opened the door and walked outside. Everyone followed. "Lucas, honey?" Andrea said. "Lucas stopped and looked at the ground, then at Dean.

"You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?" Dean ordered.

Andrea pulled Lucas back to the house. The trio of hunters fetched shovels from the Impala, before they started digging. Sam's shovel clanked against something. They dug with their hands and pulled out a red bicycle. "Peter's bike." Sam stated.

"Who are you?"

They turned around; Jake was there, pointing a gun at them.

"Put the gun down, Jake."

They all dropped the shovels.

"How did you know that was there?"

"What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried." George told him.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell she's talking about."

Andrea ran up. "Dad!"

"And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit." Dean told him.

"It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love," Sam listed, "It's gonna drown them. And it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the Same pain Peter's mom felt. And then, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does."

"Yeah, and how do you know that?" Jake spat.

"Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton."

"Listen to yourselves, all three of you. You're insane."

"I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake." Dean said.

"Dad, is any of this true?" Andrea asked, not wanting to believe it.

"No. Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous," Jake denied.

"Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me." Jake looked at Andrea. "Tell me you-you didn't kill anyone." Andrea stuttered. Jake looked away. "Oh my God."

"Billy and I were at the lake," Jake admitted. "Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank." Dean glanced at the other two hunters. "Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational."

"All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now." Dean ordered.

Andrea turned her head and spotted Lucas going down to the lake. She gasped.

"Lucas!" Jake called out.

They all ran up to the dock. Lucas was leaning over the side, reaching for a toy soldier in the water.

"Lucas!" George yelled.

"Lucas! Baby, stay where you are!" Andrea said.

A hand came up and pulls Lucas into the water. Everyone had reached the edge of the lake. Jake stopped. The ghostly head of Peter Sweeney was visible; Jake recognized him. The three hunters kept running to the end of the dock and dove in.

"Oh my God!" Andrea took off her jacket to jump in.

"Andrea, stay there!" Sam popped up from underwater.

"No! Lucas!"

Georges head reached the surface, "We'll get him! Just stay on the dock!"

They both dove under again. Dean came up. A minute later, so does Sam, then George.

"Sam?" Sam shook his head.

"George?" George shook her head as well.

"Lucas, where are you?" Andrea called out.

Jake took off his jacket as the hunters dove back down. Jake waded in. Andrea looked over. "Peter, if you can hear me...please, Peter, I'm sorry. I'm so-I'm so sorry." Jake apologized.

"Daddy, no!" It was faint, but George heard it.

* * *

_'Daddy!' Blood was everywhere_

* * *

_Snap out of it you piece of crap._

"Peter. Lucas-he's, he's just a little boy. Please, it's not his fault, it's mine. Please take me." Jake pleaded.

The three hunters came up for air.

"Jake, no!" Dean called out.

Peter surfaced.

"Just let it be over!" Jake was dragged down.

"Daddy! Daddy! No!"

* * *

_'No!' His body was lifeless._

* * *

_Stop it._

The three of them dove down again.

"No!"

* * *

_'Wake up Daddy,' she sniffed, 'Please.'_

* * *

Sam came up, shaking his head. Andrea mouthed 'no!'

George rose as well, shaking her head solemnly

Dean came up, holding Lucas, who wasn't moving.

* * *

Dean, Sam, and George walked out of the motel. Dean opened the car door and Sam tossed a duffel in. "Look, we're not gonna save everybody." Sam reminded them. George had been impacted by Jake's death. Not because she liked the guy, but because she was hoping that Andrea wouldn't have to go through what she did. True, she was an adult while George was only eight at the time, but she still thought it must've felt the same, or even worse.

"I know," Dean said.

"Yeah, you're right."

"Sam, Dean, George." Andrea walked up with Lucas.

"Hey," Dean greeted.

"We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road." Lucas was carrying a tray of sandwiches. "Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself."

"Can I give it to them now?" Lucas asked.

"Of course." Andrea smiled and kissed Lucas' head.

"Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car," Dean said.

"How you holding up?" Sam asked.

"It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?"

Sam sighed. "Andrea, I'm sorry."

"Trust me Andrea, I know what it's like." George said.

Andrea shook her head. "You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that."

Dean pus the sandwiches in the car. "All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time."

"Zeppelin rules!" Lucas cheered.

"That's right. Up high."

Dean held his hand up for a high-five. Lucas obliged, grinning.

"Kid's got good taste." George laughed.

"You take care of your mom, okay?"

"All right."

"Hey Lucas," George walked over to him, "Don't I get a high-five too?" She held her hand up. Lucas high-fived her, still grinning.

Andrea came up and kissed Dean. "Thank you."

Dean scratched his head and goes around the car.

"Sam, move your ass. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road."

Dean got in to the car, then Sam. George opened the backseat door and got in.

They all smiled at Andrea and Lucas waving goodbye.

They drove away.

* * *

They stopped at a diner on the road. A waitress, named Julia took their order.

"And what can I get for you?"

"I'll have the salad," Sam ordered, "Coffee, black."

"And for you?" Julia asked George.

"I'll take the special," George said, "Make that two black coffees."

"And you?"

"Make that three," Dean said, "And, I'll have the large burger."

"With or without fries?"

"Definitely with," Dean winked. Julia walked away.

"Now, I gotta go to the bathroom. I don't want you two lovebirds having too much fun while I'm gone," Dean said.

"I will kill you." George threatened, pointing at Dean, "It will be slow and painful."

"Sure," Dean chuckled. He got up and left the table to go to the bathroom.

"Hey," Sam got her attention, "Are you okay?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" George asked.

"Well, the recent case and all, with Andrea and her losing her-"

"Oh, you mean about my dad?" George cut him off. "It's fine really," she lied, "I'm over it."

* * *

**Okay so thanks to the lovely reviewer, switchblade-heart, up next will NOT be Phantom Traveler, but instead will be an original hunt. I'm warning you though, it may be terrible, it may be good as well. Tell me what you thought of this chapter, I always accept CC.**


	11. Timothy Davis

**I'm just going to apologize now for this episode. It's original and... yeah, let's just get this over with.**

* * *

**_Chapter 11: Timothy Davis_**

"So we got anything?"

The hunters were stopping at a small diner in Ohio. Sam was looking at the obituaries in recent papers, looking for anything supernatural and/or a pattern. Dean was doing less researching and more eating. George was looking in the papers as well, but she came up with a whole lot of nothing.

"Yes actually," Sam turned the computer to face them, "Apparently, five people have been murdered in their beds, doors and windows locked."

"So?" Dean asked, "Couldn't it just be an extremely good psycho normal serial killer?"

"Probably not considering, all of the victims were men in their late twenties to forties, all were killed the exact same way, and the day the first four victims died friends said they reported that they heard a voice saying 'Help me, he's coming'."

"How'd they die?" George inquired.

"Slit throat, but autopsy says it was done with an ordinary kitchen knife, the one you would find in a kitchen door, each done with the same knife," Sam told them. "Latest victim was Jason Davis, wife was Sally Davis, and one son, named Timothy Davis."

"Those guys our next stop?" George asked

"Well, we've got no other leads." Sam said.

"Where is it?" Dean asked.

"They've been in various towns, same general area, but the last murder was in Welton, Indiana."

"Who were the other vics?"

"Rupert Smith, Christopher Allen, Albert Wyler, Martin Grayson, and finally, Jason Davis," Sam listed off.

"I think," George clapped her hands, "We should head to Welton, our 'mystery killer' might still be there."

"I was thinking the exact same thing," Sam replied.

* * *

They were walking up to the Davis house. They were all wearing FBI suits. Dean knocked on the door. A young (handsome if you asked George) man with black hair and blue eyes opened the door. He looked like he recently woke up. "Hello?"

"Hello, I am Agent Malcom," George introduced, "These are my partners, Agent Young," George gestured to Sam, "and Agent Scott," she gestured to Dean. She flashed her fake FBI badge "I assume you must be Timothy Davis."

"Um," he scratched the back of his net, "Yeah. You're here about my dad right?" They all nodded. Timothy turned his head, "Mom! These FBI guys are here about Dad!" he shouted into the house.

A woman with short blonde hair and brown eyes walked up.

"Sally Davis?" Sam asked.

"The one and only," she chuckled.

"We would like to ask you-" Sam was cut off

"A few questions about my husband I know," she laughed, "I've watched enough cop shows. Come in," she lead them to the living room. There were two couches, each facing each other. The three hunters sat on one couch, Sally sat on the other one, Timothy leaning against the entrance to the room. George noticed there was an old stuffed rabbit, with black eyes that looked like they were staring into her soul.

"Whats that?" she pointed to the rabbit.

"Oh, we got that at a garage sale a couple weeks ago. From the, um... Who were they Timothy?"

"The Graysons," Timothy told her.

"Yeah the Graysons." Dean glanced at Sam. _  
_

"Alright, let's get this over with," Sally sighed.

"What was your husband like?" Sam asked, at the paused, he continued with, "We think all the victims have a similar personality."

"Well, Jason was kind, kindest man I ever knew" Sally laughed humorlessly, "Of course, I'm most likely biased," Sally paused, "I sometimes told him he was too kind for his own good."

"Now," Dean began, "Did you feel a bit cold over the last couple of days?"

"Yeah, but first of all, it's just the heating system, second of all, how does this have anything to do with my husbands death?"

"So far all of the victims seemed to have malfunctioning heaters." Sally nodded, "Also, has Jason said anything strange or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked.

"Well, he did say... that he heard a little girls voice saying 'Help me, he's coming'. But that's just crazy. What would that have to do with my husband's murder?"

"That's classified ma'am." George lied.

"Is that all agents?" Sally asked.

"Yes." Sam nodded.

* * *

They had booked a motel room at a not-too-bad-but-not-the-best motel a couple blocks down from the Davis house.

"Grayson?" George asked closing the door behind them, "Isnt that the-"

"Last victim before Jason." Sam finished.

"So what do you think, cursed object?" Dean asked, sitting down on one of the beds.

"Most likely,"George plopped down on the couch.

"Okay, I'll do some more research, and you two go check out the other vics." Dean groaned while George had a small smirk on her face.

"Come on Dean," George said.

* * *

"And now, where did you get this stuffed rabbit?"

They had traveled to the house of the first victim, Rupert Smith. They were disguising themselves as collectors who had interest in the stuffed rabbit.

"We actually got it at an auction in..." Regina Smith trailed off, "I think it was Cicero? It apparently was in the auctioneer's attic and she thought she could get a good amount of money for it."

"Yeah, now, who did it belong to?" Dean asked.

"I think it belonged to the her great aunt, Cathy Williams."

"Okay, thank you. Was the auctioneer a widow?" George asked.

"Yeah, why is that important?"

"Nothing, just curious."

* * *

"Can you get me some info on Cathy Williams?" Dean asked Sam on the phone. Dean and George had stopped outside a library.

"Sure, I'll get right on that. What will you guys be doing?"

"We'll be..." Dean shared a glance with George, "Interviewing people."

"Sure, see you later," Sam hung up.

"Okay Dean, heres the deal," George explained, "A reliable source told me Timothy goes to a certain bar in town every week." Dean nodded, "So, we go to the bar, you get a chick, and I get to speak with Timothy, and we'll all get drunk and have a good time."

"I'm on board, but what bar?"

George rolled her eyes, "The only bar in this town, you know, the one we passed fifty times driving around?" Seeing Dean's blank face, she sighed, "It's called _Blue._ Remember, if Sam somehow catches us, explain that we were interviewing Timothy." George clasped her hands together, "Lets do this!"

* * *

Dean and George had driven to the bar, and it did not live up to the name. There was hardly any blue in there! But George ignored this when she saw Timothy sitting by the bartender. Dean was distracted by a woman wearing an extremely short dress. George went through the crowd and sat down next to Timothy.

"Why hello Mr. Davis." she smirked.

"Agent Malcom? What the hell are you doing at a bar?"

"First of all, call me George. Second of all-" An attractive bartender walked up. "Hold on a sec. One Sam Adams." The waitress walked away to get the beer, "Second of all, I'm here to interview you." The waitress arrived with the beer. She opened it and took a chug. "So first of all, what's a twenty-something year old godsend like you doing living with his mom?"

"Oh, I don't live with my Mom, I live across town. How is this interviewing me about my dad's murder?"

"It doesn't I just wanted an excuse to talk to you."

"Well, it worked."

"Good, or else this would _really _hurt my record," George joked, "You know," George admitted, "I know how you feel."

"With what?" Timothy asked.

"Well Tim, can I call you Tim? My Dad died as well. And it was just awful, absolutely awful. But if there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my brutal sense of honesty. I feel sorry for you, but I'm not sorry for your loss. When my dad died, people who said this annoyed me to no end. They didn't know him, they're not sorry, they're just saying it because it's the 'right thing to do.'" George finished ranting.

"Oh my god thank you!" Tim laughed, "When my Dad died, it was so annoying when people did that. I didn't think there was anyone else who thought like that!"

"Only 5 minutes talkin and we're already getting along!" George took another sip.

"I guess so," Timothy chuckled.

"You know, my job requires me to travel around a lot and we're probably never going to see each other again after this is over so I think this is the point where would should start kissing."

"You're absolutely right." George pulled him into a kiss.

* * *

**Okay, I should explain, first of all 'I thought this was a Sam/OC story'. It is don't worry, just our little Timothy is going to be important later. Sorry for any inaccuracies about the bar scene. I had never been to one myself, so therefore, I have no idea how it works. I wouldn't be surprised if you haven't guess the whole plot of this. I'M NOT GOOD AT WRITING ORIGINAL STUFF. JUST MAKING THAT CLEAR. Sorry if this felt rushed, but I feel like George would be the 'kiss first, talk later' kind of girl so yeah. REVIEWS ARE WELCOME.**


	12. Cathy the Not-So-Friendly Ghost

**Don't own Supernatural**

* * *

**_Chapter 12: Cathy the Not-So-Friendly Ghost_**

"Well, you guys were out late," Sam greeted as Dean and George walked through the motel room.

"Well, we were driving all around trying to talk to the victim's families who felt the need to live far away from each other," George sighed, "So what did you get on little Miss Cathy Williams?"

"Okay, from what I got, it said she had an abusive father, who died when she was about six years old, throat slit, with a kitchen knife. No one blamed her, considering the fact-"

"She was only six and no one could possibly think it would be the six-year-old little girl in pigtails?"

"Pretty much. She died when she was eight of a heart attack. Her last words before she died were apparently, 'Help me, he's coming.'"

"So what your saying is..." George trailed off.

"That we got a psycho dead kid?"

"Basically. Also, I looked the photos of the victims, then a painting of her father, Martin Williams. Apparently, all of the victims resembled Williams in more than one way." Sam showed them the painting of Martin Williams, then took out a photo of Jason Davis, who had the same features as Timothy. "See?"

"So, we got a ghost girl who kills anyone that looks like her abusive dad?"

"Yeah, I think that her father became a ghost-"

"Causing the fire," Dean realized.

"So she stayed behind in order to get back at her dad. Problem is that she doesn't know who is her dad and who just looks like her dad."

"So she just kills anyone just in case," Dean said. "So, where's she buried."

"Wilson Cemetery," Sam replied.

"Wait a minute, Timothy looks like his dad, therefore her dad" George realized.

"We gotta get that cursed rabbit out of there," Sam said.

"Okay, you guys burn Cathy's bones, I'll go find Timothy, he should still be staying at his mom's house," George commanded. Dean wiggled his eyebrows. "Shut up!" she growled.

"I wasn't saying anything!" Dean defended.

"You insinuated," she pouted.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Well, Georgie here had a little lips-on-lips action with our little Timmy here."

"I thought you were interviewing him!" Sam said.

"I don't know! It just sort of, well, happened." she lied. George really didn't want Sam to know she was trying to get Timothy to kiss her the entire time. She had no idea why. "So are we going to save this poor kid's life or not?" she snapped.

"But, what are you going to tell him? I'm not an FBI agent and I actually hunt ghosts and ones gonna kill you tonight?" Dean questioned.

"No, I'm just going to tell him that I'm leaving soon and I wanted to say goodbye."

"Good plan," Sam said, "but we're gonna have to do it at night. Don't want anyone noticing us burning a body."

"Sure, Cathy-the-not-friendly-ghost only attacks at night anyway."

* * *

At 8 PM, George set off for the Davis' house. Before she knocked on the door, she discreetly hid a rock salt gun behind a bush and check her pocket to make sure there was a bottle of salt in it. She knocked on the door and Timothy opened it, looking shaken,

"George?"

"Yeah, I just came to say goodbye, considering we think we've got the guy."

"Oh, that's great! Want to come in?"

"Sure!" She paused, "Where's your mom?"

"Having a pity party with her friends."

"Don't sugarcoat it," George joked.

"Do you want to come in?" Timothy invited, "Considering you're leaving and we're probably never going to see each other again. Besides, isn't it freezing out there?

George laughed, "You get used to it. Of course, I would mind being in a nice warm house with a hot guy." George paused, noticing the worry on Timothy's face "Are you okay?"

Timothy nodded, "Sure, you'll probably think this is stupid, considering you're an FBI agent-"

George laughed, "I made out with you, even though we just met, I think it'll be safe if you tell me what happened."

He looked down, "I saw this," he paused, "figure. It looked like... like a little girl. But I'm sure it was nothing. I'm just tired."

"Did she say anything?" George nervously asked.

He raised an eyebrow, as if to ask, 'What the Hell does this have to do with anything?', but then answered, "It was something, like, 'Help me, he's coming,' or something like that."

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit. _"Timothy, I need you to do me a favor. This is going to sound absolutely 100% insane, but you will have to trust me."

Timothy nervously laughed, "Can we at least go inside first?"

"Okay, go inside, and make a circle around yourself with this," she held up a bottle of salt, "Because that girl you saw? She was real and she is going to kill you if we don't act fast enough."

Timothy gave her the usual 'you're insane' look, "Okay, I'm gonna go," he turned around, but George grabbed his shoulder.

"_Please. _Even if you don't believe me, just humor me."

Timothy sighed, "Fine, but after this I'm getting you some help." He took the salt from her and walked into the house. George was sighing when she heard a scream. She rushed into the house and saw the girl from the portrait, Cathy Williams, standing at the end of the hallway, holding a bloody knife. She slowly walked towards Timothy.

"Timothy," George panted as she quickly took the salt from his hand and sprinkle it around him in a circle, "stay here." She rushed outside to where she hid the rock salt gun. She picked it up and called Sam.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, is everything alright?" Sam asked.

"Um, no," George bit her lip, "Cathy is here. Timothy is in a salt circle. How fast till you can salt and burn her bones?"

"We just dug her up. We're about to do it right now."

"Okay, thanks," George hung up and rushed inside, rock salt gun in her hand. She noticed Cathy had disappeared. Not good.

"So, are you sure that thing can't get to me in here?" Timothy nervously asked.

"Yeah, but we need this," she gestured to the gun, "for safety."

"Since when do guns work on ghosts?"

"Normal ones don't do anything. This however, is not a normal gun. Rock salt. It fends the ghost off for a bit, but the only way to actually get rid of a ghost is to burn its bones, which I have two of my colleagues working on."

_"Help me."_

"Sh-She's back." Timothy nervously said. At the end of the hallway, was Cathy Davis.

"If you don't like loud noises, cover your ears." She pointed the gun at Cathy and fired. Cathy disappeared into a cloud of smoke. Timothy sighed in relief, but a few seconds later Cathy reformed. "Like I said, won't fend 'em off forever." George held up her gun and was just about to fire when Cathy screamed, engulfed by flames. After a few seconds, the flames had consumed her, leaving nothing to show she was ever there.

Timothy gulped, "I-Is she gone?"

George sighed in relief, "I think so." She pulled Timothy into a soft kiss. Once she pulled away, she smiled, "Come on, my "colleagues"", she air-quoted, "are probably waiting for us.

* * *

Sam, Dean, and George were standing by the Impala, getting ready to leave. George noticed Timothy's car was pulling up to the motel. Timothy got out of his car and walked up to George and sighed, "Thank you, for everything. I'd be dead if it wasn't for you."

Dean pretended to look offended, "We helped too." Timothy ignored him.

"Any chance you'll pop by again?" he hopefully asked.

George laughed, "Well, with my job, you never know." She decided to not include the part where she said she never went to the same town twice.

"Oh yeah, about that, do me a favor, and be safe, okay?"

George rolled her eyes. As much as she thought Timothy was hot, it was still annoying that he made her look like a damsel in distress. If anything, _he _was the damsel in distress, not her. "If I wasn't safe, I'd be dead."

"Let's hope that never happens." He kissed her on the cheek. "Goodbye." He walked back to his car, Sam giving her a "What the fuck was that?" look.

* * *

"So, George, why would a man you've only knew for a day kiss you on the cheek?" Sam asked.

"He was grateful. I saved his life, after all."

"So did we, and he didn't peck us on the cheek," Dean added in.

"Shut it Dean. He probably didn't do that because I was the one who was with him, he's probably straight, and I'm just the most amazing person he's ever met." George kicked Sam's seat, kicking with every syllable. "Now. Drop. It."

* * *

**Okay, I'm really sorry about the delay, I had writers block. Also, I know my original hunt sucked, extremely cliched yada yada yada. We'll be back on track to the original season 1 soon, don't you worry**


End file.
